


The Man Behind the Slaughter

by spideyfreakradio



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:09:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 61,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27309709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideyfreakradio/pseuds/spideyfreakradio
Summary: A POV of some of the FNAF murders and the lore put into a storytelling form! Gore and violence, please proceed with caution.
Comments: 135
Kudos: 112





	1. Nothing can hurt me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Save Me by TryHardNinja!

The car hummed low and quiet. The headlights were dim. Rain soaked the vehicle as it crept like a preying beast down an empty road. It approached a bright diner, and as it did, it slowed to a stop near the curb.

But it didn't turn off. Not yet. The driver clicked the key back once, turned off the radio, and pulled the E-Brake. He leaned back in his seat, fingering something in the glovebox as he observed the back entrance of the diner.

_Tap_

_Tap_

_Tap_

The rain gently fell on the car's roof and windshield, creating an oddly serene aura...not exactly fitting for what was coming, but the driver enjoyed its calming energy. The man pulled back his cuff sleeve to examine his watch. It was getting quite late. She had to come soon, or he would miss his chance.

He looked back out as the window-wipers cleared away the water on the windshield. Ah. There she was. He watched as a dark-haired girl was pushed out of the restaurant's back door into a muddy puddle in the alley. The doors slammed tight. The driver could just barely see a stack of gifts on top of the security puppet's box inside. It was time.

He turned the key, starting the car. Releasing the brake and shifting into second gear, he started down the road towards the diner, making a turn into the alley-way where the girl was. She was standing at the window, trying to look in. She was too preoccupied to notice the car a few yards behind her. The rain was too loud. It was too dark. And the lights and attractions inside were too enticing.

The driver left the car running as he stepped outside, the item from the glovebox clutched firmly in his hand. He didn't even have to try being stealthy. The darkness was all he needed. As he moved, the girl became more visible. Her dark hair was plaited back into a braid with a purple bow tied neatly at its end. The man cocked his head to the side a little as he noticed this. Henry's wife always liked to do things like that with Charlotte's hair. Henry always remarked how she looked like a little angel.

As he approached, he almost felt a sense of regret for what he was about to do. In all honesty, the child had become almost like one of his own kids to him. And she developed parental trust for the man.

Their families always spent so much time together...until more recent events. But it didn't matter, the man thought.

....

....

....

Charlie tried to look through the fogged windows, but it was practically impossible. The most she could see were blurred figures and the moon glinting in spaces of clouds. She sighed, feeling tears gather around her eyes. She just wanted to be inside like everyone else...it was so magical in there. She didn't understand her father's sudden aversiveness to her being at the restaurant, which led to her disobedient night visits when he was away. But kids are jerks, so here she was, out in the cold and wet. Alone.

As she stood there, a sudden sense of panic and fear seized her. Something was telling her to leave, leave now, get away. Charlie felt confused, turning down these strange thoughts. She stayed rooted as a whisper in her mind hysterically begged her to run. She didn't understand.

As she tried to process what was happening, a sharp, piercing cold penetrated her abdomen. She coughed as pain spread up to her chest. A hand was tightly clutching her shoulder...she didn't even have to look down to see scarlet metal protruding from her stomach.

Her vision began to blur, coming in and out of focus as she focused on the window in front of her. If she could gasp, she would have. There, reflected in the rain-soaked glass was...William. No, it couldn't be...

She felt the knife roughly pull away from her, intensifying the growing pain spreading through her body. The hand left her and she crumpled to the ground, allowing her to get a better view of her torso. All she could see was a violent red expanding, soaking her shirt. A black mark, like a gaping mouth, lay where the pain was coming from. She gurgled and choked as blood ran up her throat and out of her mouth. The bitter taste of iron burned her tongue as car-lights shone brightly at her.

She watched as William climbed into his car and calmly drove past her, leaving her in the rain...which was becoming less cold the longer she stayed there. In fact, her stomach didn't even hurt that much now. She could barely hear the back door opening as a puppet crawled out. It made its way towards her.

Charlie felt her chest become very warm for a moment, barely seeing the puppet before it disappeared, along with the warmth. She could barely see anything now.

...

Another car pulled up in the alley. It didn't even stop completely before the driver jumped out, running to the girl. Charlie could hear her father frantically speaking, almost shouting before she felt him picking her up. She heard him crying. She didn't completely understand. He was there, so everything was going to be okay. Right?

She couldn't see anything. All there was was darkness. She couldn't even feel him anymore. His sobs and whimpers were growing more quiet, almost like the sound was distancing itself from her. Everything was gone...

...

...

...

Suddenly, every sensation returned. Charlie blinked, looking around. Her stomach felt oddly cold. She looked around. She could see her father...holding...her? Charlie's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. She couldn't feel the rain. She couldn't feel the ground. She looked down to find herself levitating a few inches from the concrete. Her clothes...weren't what her body was wearing.

She was clothed in all black with three large white buttons on her chest, a number of white stripes on her arms and legs, her hair now down. She looked at the diner window to see an almost glitching, see-through reflection of herself. Her cheeks had cherry red circles, purple streaks fell from her eyes to her jaw. Her skin was three shades whiter.

Charlie felt her face with one hand, beginning to understand. She looked back at her father and approached him, putting one hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I have to go now. I have to find William...I have to stop him. For you."

Her lip trembled as she tried to suppress real tears falling down her cheeks. She wrapped her small arms around her father, giving him a squeeze as she let out a small sob. He didn't make any movement to recognize her presence. She released him, giving him a small kiss on his forehead.

"I love you," she said through her tears, voice wavering. "Be happy for me, okay?"

She sniffled as she turned to face the restaurant. "William...I'm coming for you."

She felt her sadness harden into intense fury as her face drew into a scowl.

"I'm coming for you."


	2. Nighttime reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: The Puppet Song by TryHardNinja!

William sighed as he ran a handkerchief over the bloodied blade. Three in the morning and he was still cleaning up from his late-night escapade hours ago. He was on his second cloth, the first now smoking in the fireplace soaked in blood. 

No doubt it was a clean murder...the puppet was out of the way, and he had taken the precaution of disabling the security cameras earlier that day. No fingerprints would be found on the child as he had worn gloves. It was quick. But he knew Henry would suspect him...that was why he had made the puppet after all. Why he had forbidden his daughter from going to the restaurant.

He scrubbed harder as he recounted how his ex-partner had come across his animatronic plans and child target papers weeks prior. Not that he saw Charlie's name on it-it wasn't there at that point-but there was only one primary suspect for her murder and it was him. Despite this, he felt secure in his safety. Henry wasn't a man to be very trusting in systems. If anything, he'd be taking this into his own hands. 

William chuckled at that thought. He'd like to see the man try. He examined the knife now rid of stain and nodded in satisfaction. Standing, he threw the other handkerchief into the fire with the first, watching as its ends curled inwards at the entering flame before he turned to place the blade in a tub of disinfectant. Checking his watch, he set an alarm for six AM and pulled a towel over the bucket. 

He smiled, proud of his tidiness. Yes, it was a clean kill. He was lucky enough to not get any blood on his clothes, which he was grateful for. He didn't want to do anymore cleaning tonight if he could avoid it. 

He exhaled deeply, peering at his hands. Ever since...it happened...he'd been seeing imaginary blood staining his fingers, a hallucination that finally had begun to die. It didn't surprise him and he had been expecting something like this, but for his first murder, it was very surreal. He rubbed at his hands as if to scrub it away, but to no avail. He looked at them for a moment more before the sound of a knock at the door made his head turn.

He watched as Michael peeked his head in shyly, head downwards. "Dad?" He said quietly. "Elizabeth is having nightmares again." William turned to face him. "Okay. I'll go check on her. Thanks for telling me," he replied monotonously. "W...What are you doing this late?" His son inquired cautiously. "Just some business projects. Don't worry about it," the man answered. Michael nodded, pausing before he left for his room.

William watched him leave before moving to go to his daughter's bedroom. Ever since Chris's incident, Michael had become like a dog with his tail between his legs, refusing hangouts with friends and only coming out to talk to his sister or for meals. As he should, William thought. The teen was lucky he didn't receive any charges for manslaughter or reckless life endangerment. As far as home matters were concerned, he was getting what he deserved. Chores around the clock, coming straight home after school, no music and no TV or comics...he was forbidden from entering Chris's room. Poor Clara had pleaded with her husband to be kinder to the kid, but William was beyond compassion for Michael...for the next few months at least.

As he walked to Elizabeth's room, he thought it odd that Michael didn't just get Clara to comfort his sister-it's not like the teen wanted any further interactions with him anyway. Then again, he thought, pushing open his daughter's door. His wife hadn't been sleeping well. Michael probably wanted her to get decent rest. 

He peeked his head in to see Elizabeth curled up, facing the wall. Her lamp was dimly lit, casting a soft golden glow on her blonde hair. He walked in, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He put a hand on the girl's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. "Hey sweetheart," he murmured. Elizabeth turned her head and looked at the man and sniffled. "Bad dream?" William asked with a gentle smile.

The girl nodded, rubbing her nose. "Want to tell me about it?" The man questioned. Elizabeth sniffled again as her eyes watered. "Remember when we went to the circus?" She whispered. William nodded. "I had a dream that I got lost in the mirror maze," she whimpered. "I got lost and couldn't get out," she said, now trying to stifle her growing sobs.

"Hey," William said, holding his arms out. Elizabeth sat up and fell into her father's embrace, crying into his shirt, tightly clutching him as she shook. He held her gently but firmly, running a hand comfortingly through her blonde hair, humming the "Swan Lake" tune from a music box he had given her last Christmas. Her sobs slowed to hiccups as she relaxed, snuggling into his chest. "Your mom and I are always here," he murmured, rubbing her back. "You won't get lost anywhere if we can help it," he said. The girl nodded.

"Now why don't you go back to sleep? It's late," her father said, giving her one last squeeze. She nodded again, climbing back into her covers. He tucked her in, giving her a kiss and a goodnight before leaving the room. As he closed the door behind him, he thought again about Chris. There was nothing he wouldn't do for his kids. His innocent kids anyway. That was why what happened that night with Charlie had to happen. Why what was going to occur over the course of the next week had to happen.

He'd do anything.


	3. Welcome to the party...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Follow Me by TryHardNinja!

A black poodle bounded down a well-kept lawn, chasing after the chew toy that was thrown to the sidewalk. His tail wagged excitedly as he brought the thing back to the blonde standing on the porch, her hair done up in bouncy curls and ribbons matching the ones on the dog's ears. "Here, Walt!" She said as he dropped a now drool-covered toy into her hand. She threw it again, this time landing it in the neighbor's garden.

About to call for the dog again, the girl stopped as a woman's voice shouted from inside. "Susie! Lunchtime!" The girl turned, hurrying in through the front door, making sure to close it behind her. The dog came back with the toy and stopped in the lawn, not knowing where his owner had gone.

William watched from his car parked down the street. Now was the time to lure the dog...the child wouldn't be back out for another twenty minutes at least. Stepping out of his car, he gripped a bag of dog treats firmly, whistling as he did so. The poodle's head turned at the tune, focusing his attention on the man.

The dog watched as William shook the bag and dropped a few treats onto the road, backing around behind his car as he went. Walt's nose twitched at the smell of the bone-shaped morsels and he cautiously trotted down to them, eagerly eating them one by one, following the trail to where the man was crouched, knife in hand...

_"Good boy."_

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

William carried the limp animal down to his workshop, laying it in a cooler where a mess of jumbled robot parts sat next to it. Working out the logistics of whether or not the dog would possess the metal would have to come later. For now, he had other plans in motion.

The man picked up a folder on a nearby table and flipped it open, reading over the list of children he had selected. All four of them would be attending their respective birthday parties tomorrow...some with a parent or parents, most without. The fewer the better in William's mind.

He sighed, placing the folder back on the table. Charlie's murder days prior had taken more of a toll on him than he anticipated, something that was becoming more and more difficult to shun from his thoughts. The more focused he was on his plans for tomorrow, the easier it was to escape the memory of her shock and sadness, so he tried to dedicate as much time as possible in preparation.

His hands clenched tightly as Charlie's memory once again trespassed his mind. Unconsciously, he turned and roughly kicked at a stack of carboard boxes on the floor. He couldn't even feel the pain as he tried to rid the girl from his head.

William shook his head vigorously and grabbed his knife from the table and turned back to the elevator. Focus on tomorrow, he thought to himself. Focus on tomorrow.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day William found himself reading the paper, mostly neglecting the now cold waffles on his plate. The police were still looking for suspects in Charlie's death given the fifth article on it this week, and he thought it interesting to look at it from the publisher's point of view. Folding the paper, he stood from his seat with a good amount of food still left at his place.

"Honey?" His wife asked, putting a hand on his wrist. "I've got something I have to go do for work. I'll be back tonight," he said, kissing her forehead and turning to grab his hat and jacket. "Again? Are you sure you can't stay a little longer?" Clara asked sadly. "I have to go, but I'll leave as soon as I can darling." William replied, taking his keys from the counter. "Alright..." the woman trailed off.

"Bye dad," Elizabeth said, waving as she reached for the syrup bottle. "Bye boo," he said, taking his briefcase from the floor. As he opened the garage door, he glanced back at Michael who had said nothing all morning and instead chose to sit and pick at his food. William hummed in assent, then stepped out, closing the door behind him.

......

The drive to Freddy's had seemed longer than normal, though William was sure that was from anticipation. He wasn't nearly as anxious as before, despite the occasional butterfly that twitched in his stomach, causing him to grit his teeth absent-mindedly.

He pulled up in a parking lot two buildings away from the restaurant and stepped out, carrying his briefcase. He walked around to the back entrance and went in, heading down the tiled hallway to an "Employees Only" room. He didn't work at this location, but he was glad whoever owned it was an idiot in choosing employees-none of the doors were locked, and no one was keeping an eye on them. In fact, there only seemed to be three or four workers there, two of which were reading magazines and listening to the radio, completely unaware to what was happening around them. Perfect.

William opened his briefcase and took a gleaming blade from it. He slipped off his suit-jacket and folded it neatly, placing it in the bag before closing it with a small snap. He tucked the bag between two metal shelves near the door and turned to face the corner. A golden rabbit suit stood hidden in shadows, eyes black and empty. He grinned in smug satisfaction. He had placed the costume there earlier that week and no one had taken any notice.

He pulled the suit off its stand and slid the individual pieces on, trying to cover as much skin and clothing as possible. Once the mask was on and secure he took a glance in the reflective metal table beside him. A rabbit head stared back at him. He smiled.

William opened the door hesitantly, looking around for any employees nearby. No one but the ignorant teens near one of the back party rooms. He spotted a small group of parents talking near the ball-pit, seemingly distracted by one another, giving little if any attention to their children running around the restaurant.

He stepped out fully, waving to a few children as he walked near the stage. He examined the room, looking for his victims. It took him a moment before he saw Gabriel and Jeremy sitting at a table against the wall, blowing bubbles into their sodas. Gabriel wore a "Birthday Boy!" party hat while Jeremy's lay abandoned near his plate.

William smiled, moving to approach them. "Hello, boys!" He said cheerfully with a happy wave. "Hi," Gabriel said shyly. Jeremy just gave a small wave, seemingly intimidated by their guest. "So, who's the birthday boy?" The man asked with exaggerated interest. "I am," Gabriel replied.

"Really? How old are you now?" William inquired. "Nine," the boy answered. "Nine?!" The man said with a gasp and faked surprise. "Well, you're practically a man now, huh?" Gabriel tried to hide a giggle as a smile spread on his face. "I guess," he answered with a grin. Jeremy chuckled. "Not even close," he joked.

William forced a laugh as he shook his head. "Well, man or not, nine's a big number, isn't it? I think the birthday boy deserves a special treat. How about it?" Jeremy and Gabriel looked at each other with smiles on their faces before looking back at William. "Sure," they said. "Awesome!" William said, clapping his hands. "Come with me," he said, backing up, motioning with one hand.

"Oh-where are we going?" Gabriel asked, hopping off his seat. "We have a special room downstairs where we keep special birthday gifts!" William said, glancing back at the parents. None were taking notice. "Um...I don't know if my mom would be okay with me going where she can't see me," Jeremy said worriedly, looking at the group of adults.

"I'm sure it'll be alright-besides, if she's not, she can talk ol' Bonnie!" William said with a flourish, pointing at himself. Jeremy nodded hesitantly, still looking a little anxious as he followed the man towards a darker hall. "This way!" He said, opening a door to brick stairs that led to another door at its bottom.

They followed him down where he let them inside, flicking on the white light above them. They looked around, trying to spot the "special birthday gift." William stayed near the door and waved. "Now, stay here. I'll be right back-I've got two more guests for our little party!" He said, cocking his head.

"Um...okay," Gabriel said, a hint of confusion in his voice. William smiled, nodding as he left the door partially open, heading back upstairs into the main party room. He looked around, hands tucked behind his back as he explored the area. After a minute or two of searching, he spotted his next target.

Fritz was tugging on his father's sleeve, trying desperately to get the man's attention, but to no avail as he simply looked at the boy and shook his head, putting a finger to his lips. He patted the ginger on the head before re-entering discussion with the other parents. Fritz certainly looked annoyed.

William waved from the stage, cocking his head to the side. The boy looked his direction and glanced around as if to see that he was indeed the person this man was waving at. William nodded, beckoning for the redhead to come closer.

"Why, hello kiddo! How's your party been so far?" The man asked, crouching down to the boy's level. "Uh...pretty good, I guess," Fritz responded, obviously confused. "I couldn't help but notice you were having a hard time with you dad over there," William continued. The boy nodded, the annoyed expression creeping back onto his face. "Yeah. I was trying to ask him why 'Pirate's Cove' was closed. Foxy's my favorite."

William smiled. "He's my favorite too. Unfortunately, Foxy was having some problems, so we had to take him downstairs to fix him."

"Oh," Fritz replied, disappointed. "Hey...since you're such a big fan, do you wanna go see him?" William asked. The boy's eyes lit up. "Really? Is that allowed?" He questioned. "Why not? He's your favorite, after all!" The man replied. Fritz's face lit up with excitement as William led him towards the corridor.

"Now, he's turned off right now, so I'm going to have to go get a special tool to turn him on. There's two other boys down there waiting to see him too, so you can wait with them. Does that sound okay?" He asked. Fritz nodded vigorously. "Great! Here ye go matey, I'll be down with ye in a minute," William said in pirate slang, holding the basement door open for the boy. Fritz grinned, heading down.

Three down, one to go.

William saw Susie almost immediately as she stood at the 'Fruity Maze' arcade game near one of the windows. He watched, walking closer as she fiddled with the controls, maneuvering the 8-bit character on screen. He let her play a moment longer as the timer ran out. Just as she pulled out another token, he tapped her shoulder, leaning down to her level.

"Hello there," he said quietly. The girl let out a little squeak, turning around before smiling at the sight of a happy-looking mascot. "What's your name?" He asked. "Uh-I'm Susie," she said, sliding the token back into the pocket of her pink dress. "Well, hello Susie. I'm Bonnie. You having fun?" He questioned.

She nodded, causing her curls to bounce around her head. "I'm happy to hear that. Who's party are you here for?" He asked. "My cousin, Kevin," she said, pointing to a blonde playing in the ball pit. "I see," William said, looking his way before turning back to face her. "You know, I had a dog named Kevin. He used to come to the pizzeria with me, but now pets aren't allowed," he said, peering at her out the corner of his eye.

"Oh," she said quietly, almost sadly. "Is something the matter?" William asked. "It's just-I lost my dog yesterday and we haven't seen him," she answered. "What's his name?" The man inquired. "Walt," she replied.

"Is Walt a poodle by chance?" William questioned, raising an eyebrow. Susie looked up at him, nodding. "Uh huh, a black one. Have you seen him?" She asked hopefully. "As a matter of fact, I have," the man said, faking a happy tone. "I didn't know who's dog it was, so I kept him downstairs until I could call the pet-store," he continued.

"Could you please take me to him?" Susie pleaded, puppy-eyed. "Of course I can!" William answered. "This way," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Together, they walked to the basement door, passing through to the bottom of the landing. He allowed the girl inside where the boys were there waiting.

He glanced up the stairs, turned off the basement stair-well light.

And closed the door.


	4. But killing isn't justified

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Five Night's at Freddy's 2 Song by the Living Tombstone!

The children stayed quiet, waiting patiently as William turned and closed the door, locking it with a click. He said nothing, listening to the party music blaring upstairs as he loosened a cuff on his suit.

He turned his head back, eyes widening with adrenaline as the kids looked back at him in confusion. From his sleeve, he dragged a long, thin kitchen knife in full view. Their reactions were all the same. Shock...and horror.

Susie screamed while the boys' faces whitened. "H-Hey, this isn't funny," Gabriel stuttered, fear evident in his voice. William didn't say anything as he took a few slow steps towards them, causing them to split into two groups; Jeremy and Gabriel on one side and Susie and Fritz on the other. William opted to turn towards the boys, adjusting his grip on the blade.

Gabriel tried to pull Jeremy back towards the shelves and chairs, but the boy was frozen in fear. He tugged harder, becoming increasingly frantic. "Jeremy, c'mon! Please!" he pleaded, yanking on his shirt. Jeremy stayed rooted to the spot, hyperventilating as the rabbit approached. Eventually, the man reached him.

Gabriel screamed, releasing his hold on his friend as the man drove the knife into Jeremy's chest. He moved backwards too quickly and tripped, falling to the floor, hurriedly scurrying under a table to the corner where Susie and Fritz were huddled in terror. They watched in shock as Jeremy collapsed to the tiled ground, scarlet blood seeping out of two wounds in his torso while he gasped for breath.

William turned to them as they quaked in the corner, a smile growing on his face. This was _fun,_ this was _exhilarating._ He laughed lowly as he stalked closer, the knife dripping with Jeremy's blood. He looked at them, trying to decide who to go for next before Fritz took a brave step forward, a scowl on his face. The boy bared his teeth, holding up a metal wrench he retrieved from the ground.

"Stay away!" He yelled, swinging the wrench in the man's direction. Gabriel and Susie started backing along the wall towards the door while Fritz moved to stay between them and William. The man laughed at the sight of the boy as he kept the tool outstretched at him. As William made to step forward, Fritz swung the wrench again before the man caught it in his hand.

The boy struggled, trying to pull the tool back before the man roughly yanked it towards him, taking Fritz with it. As Fritz fell onto the man's torso, William plunged the knife into the redhead's back, causing him to scream in pain. He yelled again as the blade was ripped out and driven back in, re-entering lower, closer to his spine. Blood spattered on William's suit and on the wall near them as he stabbed the child a third time before finally letting him fall face-first to the tile.

Susie began to sob, clinging to Gabriel as he struggled with the doorknob. He shook his head frantically, eyes watering, blurring his vision as he fumbled with the knob. At every turn, it stopped, indicating that it was locked. He began to bang on the door, screaming with everything he had. But through the double doors and the pounding music upstairs, nothing in the basement could be heard.

Panic overtook him as he realized the sheer hopelessness of his situation before he felt Susie back up against him, pushing him towards the other corner. He looked her direction to see the man coming their way, suit thoroughly stained in menacing scarlet. _"LEAVE US ALONE!"_ He screamed, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks. The rabbit simply laughed, lunging forward to grab Susie. She kicked, punched, and hit the man anywhere she could, flailing as he dragged her to him by the arm.

William adjusted his grip on the girl, turning her so that her back was pressed to his chest, one hand holding her by her face as he raised the blade to her neck. Gabriel realized what was happening a second too late, not able to close his eyes in time as he watched the man tear the knife through her throat, sending specks of blood flying at the boy's face. He froze in horror, not able to breathe as he felt the fluid begin to run down from his hair, into his eyes and over his mouth and cheeks.

Gabriel was shaking so much his teeth chattered. He was nearly all cried out, the remaining tears making streaks against the blood on his cheeks as they ran. He couldn't take his eyes away from Susie's body on the floor, eyes half-lidded with red seeping out of them as she gurgled for her last breath, blood bubbling from her mouth. He watched as her movement stopped and her skin began to pale.

Gabriel shook his head, giving a dry sob as he backed to the shelves. William looked down at the girl, making a tut sound as he nudged her face with his foot. "What a pity. Reminds me of my own daughter actually," he said, turning his attention back to Gabriel. The boy looked at the man with eyes widened. This man had a _family?_

He chuckled. "Well, nothing to be done now." He looked at the boy and smiled through the mask, walking to him. As the man approached, Gabriel sank to the floor, curling his knees to his chest, and putting his hands on his head, trying to block out the memory of the other's screams.

He heard the man kneel in front of him and felt a furry hand take his wrist, dragging one arm away from his head, and then the other. Gabriel opened his eyes to see the rabbit looming over him, his front shrouded in shadow, making the spatters of blood appear to be black spots. "Gabriel, right?" He asked, cocking his head at him.

The boy stared up as a pit formed in his stomach and he felt his face pale. "Well, Gabriel. Just a minute longer and this will all be over," the rabbit said quietly, almost comfortingly.

He didn't have time to think before he felt the blade push upward into his chest. He felt it poke out through his back as the man kept a firm hand on his shoulder. Time seemed to stop and the room became utterly silent other than the gentle drip of blood from the knife to the tiled floor.

Gabriel could barely feel pain, just a shuddering cold that changed to hot, then back to cold, back and forth. He felt blood creeping up his throat and to his mouth like a stream of warmth and metal, causing his lips to part to allow the fluid to escape. His vision doubled and swam as his breath came out in shuddery gasps.

William leaned close to his ear. "Go to sleep, kid," he whispered, sliding the knife from his chest. Gabriel felt himself get pulled with it a little as it dragged away from his body, causing the beginning pain to grow. As he slumped against the shelves and as his vision darkened, he heard the man get to his feet. "Oh," he said. "And a happy birthday."

Then, everything went black.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

William watched the light leave the boy's eyes with satisfaction. It was done. Part of it, anyway. His gaze shifted to the animatronics standing in the other corner and smiled. He stepped over a puddle of blood on the floor and took Susie's arm, dragging her to the wall. Pulling a yellow chicken robot from behind the shelf, he removed the mask and picked up the now weight-less girl and eased her inside, keeping her arms pinned to her side. Sufficiently and snugly in, he grabbed the Chica head and placed it back on the torso.

Now it was time for the others.

...

Gabriel was last. William hauled his body to the last animatronic, leaving bloody streaks on the tile as he went. Lifting the kid up with gentle care, he slid him inside, watching as his head slumped onto his chest. As with the others, he secured the Freddy head on top and observed his handiwork, examining the robots from all angles. Unless you were really looking for them, you couldn't see an inch of flesh anywhere, other than through a small crack between the head and torso.

He smiled. All was left was to clean up the bloody mess and get out of there before any parents came looking. With the use of a single mop, three rolls of paper towels, a bucket, disinfectant, and a black garbage bag, he had completely eliminated any trace of the scuffle within an hour.

William unlocked the door and crept upstairs, making a point to go through the employee hallway to avoid the main party room where he heard adults calling for their children's names. Going back to the supply closet, he changed back into his suit, dumped the costume into the garbage bag, and calmly walked through the hallways and out the back doors to his car, bag and briefcase in hand.

He tossed the garbage bag into his trunk and climbed into the front seat, starting the car. Before he pulled out of the parking lot, he looked back at the pizzeria to see parents worriedly making phone calls and traveling from room to room through the many windows in the building. A smug grin crossed his face as he started down the road.

The job was done. Now, he just had to wait.


	5. Of Ghosts and Machines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Make this Puppet Proud by Adam Hoek!

The restaurant was in utter chaos. Police had requested all guests and employees stay so they could gather an accurate account of what transpired in the hours since the four children went missing. Only two of the kids were affiliated, the others seemingly unrelated in every way apart from also being at the pizzeria at the time of their disappearance. The workers offered next to no help as two of the four were occupied reading, one had been smoking outside near a side entrance on the phone with a friend, and the manager in his office, working on planning parties for the next week.

The parents were almost equally useless in determining the whereabouts of the missing children. All information concluded that Fritz had pestered his father nearly two hours before 911 was called and the other children had no interactions with anyone after that time, though their activities before-hand were unknown. 

In the meantime, the pizzeria's manager had given his employees a tongue-lashing that could be heard throughout the entire building while spouses either broke into emotional breakdowns or accused each other for not keeping track of their kids. The other children, upon seeing the adult's reactions also turned into crying, confused messes. About twenty minutes after the police were called, parents came to pick up their own kids if they weren't already there. Things certainly were not looking good for the restaurant. 

Unbeknownst to all there, however, was the arrival of a puppet.

Charlie watched from dark shadows the chaos that ensued through the still-going party music, yelling, and children's cries. Her black eyes examined the scene before her as she turned down an employee hallway. She knew William was behind all this and she also knew the places he would have done it. She had already checked the back of the building, but it seemed he had deviated from her murder and did it somewhere else this time.

After exploring a series of unused party rooms, employee offices, and supply closets, she found the basement entry door. She knew the police already looked down there, but she wanted to see for herself. Passing through the double doorframes into the white-light of the basement room, she carefully looked over all that lay there. 

Images of children-three boys and a girl-flashed through her mind as she gazed at the room, accompanied by a scene of carnage and violence. Time seemed to flicker and turn back to Gabriel's death. She watched as William took Susie's arm and took her to...the robots. Everything came back to the present as she directed her attention to the sitting animatronics on her left, propped against white walls.

Floating near, she peered through the mouth of a brown bear. It took her a moment before she spotted another jaw, this one human, agape and frozen. Dried blood was caked onto the boy's teeth and chin, cold and unmoving. She felt revolted, more so than when that wretch had mercilessly stolen her life. This was disgusting and despicable in every way.

Charlie stayed there for a moment, trying to think of what to do when revelation dawned on her. If she was going to take William down, she wasn't going to let herself take all the revenge. 

She raised her hands out and felt a warmth like the warmth she felt at her death gather at her fingertips. She didn't understand how she knew what to do and how to do it, but she let it happen anyway, a hardened expression of determination on her masked face. A white light, like two brilliant orbs materialized at her palms. Streams of the glow left the light and went to the chests and faces of each robot, making the eyes whiten entirely, glowing with the same radiance Charlie held.

The machines lifted and shuddered as the light began to dissipate. Charlie watched as the glow disappeared...the animatronics seemed to dawn a new demeanor. Their eyes looked more alive, holding the same life a human would, adding to the spiritual warmth the robots seemed to now give. She waited and watched as the Bonnie animatronic twitched, turning its head towards her, its movements extremely mechanical. It looked at her silently as the child within understood what was happening. The others "woke," making similar motions, all directing their attention at the puppet before them.

No words needed to be spoken. They all knew what they needed to do.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Allan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the officer before him wrapped up their report summaries, scheduling a date to come and investigate later that week. He didn't listen much, waving them out of his establishment as the remaining parents and guests left. 

His workers had began cleaning up after the parties as the rest of the birthday events for the day were cancelled. He was more annoyed that he had lost money from the scheduled festivities meant to happen that afternoon and over the next few days than the thought that children who visited his pizzeria were missing due to his mismanagement. What did it matter if a couple of twerps ran off anyway? As far as he was concerned, they probably all ditched sometime during the party and their parents didn't see them leaving.

He groaned at the thought of all the paperwork he was going to have to do for the next few days or so, watching as his employees threw away paper plates and party hats. 

"Ray, don't mop 'till you've done sweeping, alright?!" He called, irritated. The teen looked glumly back at him and propped the mop on a chair before heading down the hall to a supply closet. 

"And get those new animatronics from downstairs, will ya? I want them on stage for tomorrow."

"Yeah, boss."


	6. Comfortably Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Thank you so much for reading. I thought it worth noting here that this book is an interpretation of the "Five Night's at Freddy's" lore and won't exactly match up with what we (think we) know, and it's more about trying to create a coherent storyline to enjoy. Scott said himself that the lore isn't really meant to be a story and that the events in it wouldn't work well in that presentation, and for the sake of storytelling, I've decided to add some of my own elements to make this work a little better. Thought I should clarify if that wasn't already obvious. Thanks again, and enjoy the book!
> 
> FNAF Song of the Day: Nothing Can Hurt Me by MandoPony!

William watched the fire consume the garbage bag in the incinerator, watched as everything inside went up in curling smoke. The only thing that didn't go with it was the Golden Bonnie suit which he planned to wash later that night in the secrecy of his workshop. What a mess.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked over at the knife laying coldly on a metal table by the elevator. Since the last murders at the restaurant, the little remorse he felt for Charlie's killing diminished. It wasn't as difficult this time, but now, hours after the event, the screams and images of blood-stained bodies were tearing at his mind. It was like a drink, absolutely euphoric and enjoyable in partaking, but the hangover was nightmarish.

He shut his eyes in frustration, clenching his teeth at the thought of their bodies now frozen, hidden in those mangled machines. With a low, strangled yell, he kicked at a pile of boxes near him, knocking them to the floor, scattering their contents all over the tiled floor. He grumbled, then sighed, bending to pick up the items. All were pieces for animatronics he planned to build for his future franchise, destined for an evil purpose...well...evil in anyone else's mind.

William thought back on everything that set off these events. Chris's death, nearly six months ago, had devastated him. His eyes closed as he remembered that day in unwanted vividness.

Everything was fine...just another day at his pizzeria...he brought his kids again. Even little Chris, who was beyond terrified of the restaurant, something William was trying to help him get over. He wish he hadn't. 

He had been talking to Henry, who had Charlie by his side. They were discussing potential franchisees when the din of ongoing parties turned from sounds of joy to gasps and screams. William had turned around abruptly, confused when his eyes caught the sight of Chris, limp in the Golden Freddy's mouth, blood dripping from its jaw. His adrenaline was so high, he could barely see, sprinting past chairs and guests in his hurry to reach his son. 

The image of the child frozen there, bone and brain matter visible through fake teeth lay permanent in his mind as he struggled to turn back the spring-lock mechanism at the base of the robot's neck. He could hear Clara and Elizabeth's cries while Henry was on the phone with the police, demanding an ambulance at once. 

When the bolt finally clicked, William rushed to catch Chris as he slowly slumped out of the bear's mouth into his father's arms. All he could see were streams of blood wet on the child's face, his hair almost black from the fluid, eyes closed. His skull could be seen where his forehead should have been, cracks and a gaping hold in the center of it. What was inside that, well...William never wanted to have to see it again. It made him sick...not just the sight, but the thought that his little boy had to endure it all. Except he didn't endure it. 

Chris had gone into a coma and was unresponsive when medical help arrived, his pulse faint and slow. William and Clara were allowed into the ambulance on the way to the hospital and Henry offered to take Elizabeth and Michael home with him until they got better news on Chris's condition. The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity. Clara had sobbed into his shoulder the entire way at the sight of their child hooked into machines and tubes, wheeled down white hallways to the ICU.

It was hours before doctors had fixed him up to the best of their ability, but Chris still didn't wake. He never did. Two days later, he died in his sleep.

The paperwork, lawyers, legal matters, and working things out with the elementary school were the least of William's worries from that point. He had become distant from Clara for weeks, was on the breaking point with Michael constantly, and was at little hope for consolation, even from Henry. Until that fateful week when one of the neighbors down the street had a yard sale.

William had been taking a walk, trying to distract himself from his suffocating depression when Scott Hansen-Mr. Paranormal Ghost Hunter himself-waved him down, asking him if he was interested in buying any of the useless junk displayed on his lawn. It was extremely irritating; he had just wanted to go on a walk after all, and now this horror-obsessed buffoon was interrupting his only break in the day. 

He was ready to completely ignore Hansen until the man presented a doll manufactured by Fazbear Entertainment-William knew because Henry designed it a year or two ago. "Haunted, you see! Got it off some grandma who's granddaughter died in a car accident, holdin' it and everything," Hansen said, holding the thing out. "The old lady told me it was 'evil' and whatnot, that her little girl's spirit got in it or something...I never had any paranormal experiences with it, but hey, maybe you could be the lucky guy, right?"

William bought it for twelve dollars and brought it home immediately. It only took a few hours for him to notice differences-the doll's eyes would move inexplicably, her music box sometimes played sporadically, her head would turn...

He tried communicating with the thing, but to no avail. After pressing Hansen for details, he learned the time of the crash was in the later hours of the afternoon-coincidentally, when these paranormal occurrences would manifest. That's when the gears got turning. 

William started performing experiments on the doll, exploring its triggers and movements, and ultimately discovered that, when melted enough, the hauntings would cease, presumably because the spirit left. That's when he tried something else. He'd started setting traps for mice, racoons, rabbits, anything he could catch, and put them within close proximity with robots. Nothing would happen then. It was only when he started catching and killing wandering house cats where there would be any sign of possessiveness. This, William theorized, meant that hauntings are stronger the more emotive a creature is-which is why pets worked over wild animals.

His mind worked to create devilishly evil plans from there...if he could harness this power, perhaps he could bring his child back. But he had to experiment first...with humans. About two months after Chris's passing, he asked Henry to teach him how to build their beloved robots. Henry didn't object and taught him enough basics for William to create something before he found the plans for the Funtime animatronics-animatronics that had yet to be finished. He stumbled upon William's list of targets that same day. After that, well...all communications were cut off from each other and they went their separate ways, though Henry decided to keep close tabs on his ex-partner, just in case.

William found out about the security puppet a few weeks after their departure. It amused him for whatever reason...Henry's daughter wasn't on his list at first, but he had to admit, she was in consideration. He knew her well, which would make for an easier murder. He made his final decision a month afterward. Her death acted more as a practice for him and to get back at Henry's betrayal, not his real test for hauntings. No, he had other children for that.

William sighed, thinking back on all this. Next Monday would be his first nightshift at the scene of his crime-he "applied" four days ago. He was surprised at how easy he got the job, there was no interview, no real resume, nothing. He showed up near closing hours that afternoon and asked if there was an opening-to which Allen said yes and hired him immediately. Whatever. The less he had to interact with the people there, the better. The nightshift was preferable, with no one there, he could properly observe the robots for any sign of paranormal activity.

He groaned at the thought of having to drive two hours down to the restaurant for the next few nights, if not longer. He should have picked a closer establishment-they were everywhere, after all-but to avoid suspicion, he opted for someplace further. Too late now. 

William watched as the incinerator flame died out completely, only a pile of ashes remaining. He nodded in satisfaction and took his suit-jacket from the table, and walked to the elevator. 

The drive home was serene, euphoric almost. He pulled into the driveway and stepped out, taking his briefcase from the passenger seat. As he locked the car doors, he heard the front door open as Elizabeth came running down the porch in her bare feet. "Dad!" She said, tackling him in a bear hug. "Hey, sweetheart," he said with a smile, returning the embrace. "Mom's making lasagna!" The blonde said, wrapping her arms and feet around her father's leg. 

"Oh, really? Sounds delicious. Are you going to get off my foot now?" He said, raising an eyebrow at her with a mischievous grin. The blonde giggled and shook her head, burying her face in his leg. He let out an exaggerated groan, eliciting more laughs from the girl. Like a limp, he shuffled up the stairs and into the house, Elizabeth on his foot the whole time before he finally shook her off in the living room.

The girl giggled as she fell onto the carpet. "Silly goose," William said, pinching her nose. He straightened and set his briefcase against the wall as he heard Clara call from the kitchen. "That you, honey?" She echoed over the sounds of meal-prep. The man entered the room, finding her stirring a saucepan on the stove. He hugged his wife from behind, placing a kiss on her cheek as she continued cooking. She chuckled. "How was work darling?" 

"Great," he replied, looking at the steaming sauce over her shoulder, still holding her as she stirred. "I'm happy to hear that," Clara said with a smile. "Did you get a lot done?" He nodded, sighing onto her arm. "You sound tired," his wife said with a bit of worry in her voice. "Mhmm," he responded, closing his eyes. 

"Do you want to go get some sleep before dinner? I can have Lizabeth come get you when we're ready," she offered, looking back at him. He shook his head, breathing in the scents of the food cooking. "Alright," Clara said hesitantly. "Is...is everything alright, Will?" She asked quieter. He paused, opening his eyes. "Yeah," he replied, somewhat monotonous. 

Clara nodded slowly, giving him a kiss on his temple. "You know I'm right here if you need me. Don't be afraid to talk to me if you need to, okay?" She said, looking at him. He nodded again, releasing her, rubbing her arm with one hand as he turned to set the table. 

"Okay."


	7. Who's Dave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Survive the Night by MandoPony!

The weekend came and went, the dawn of Monday breaking. Clara was more than happy to hear that William was changing to night hours and would have the afternoon and evening with her and the kids. So, that day they decided to do a family outing.

After parking, the family exited the car and started down the grassy hill to a quiet playground. "Momma, can I hold it?" Elizabeth asked, looking at the picnic basket Clara held. "Two hands," the woman said, gently handing the carrier to her daughter. The blonde gripped the wooden handles tightly, struggling slightly with its weight. "I've got it," she huffed, hurrying her pace to the small pavilion near the park. 

Clara watched with a smile as Elizabeth hoisted the basket onto one of the metal tables, taking the plaid table-cloth from inside, laying it over the surface. "Thank you, princess," William called to the girl as they approached.

They each took their seats at the benches while Clara and Elizabeth pulled the contents from the basket out, passing food and juice-boxes to the others. "What a pretty day," the woman remarked. William nodded in agreement. The sun was out, as always, but for once they had some cloud coverage and the temperatures were mildly cool-a rarity for Hurricane autumns. 

Elizabeth hurried through her meal and hopped from her seat, tugging on Michael's sleeve. "C'mon Mike, come play with me!" She said happily, coaxing her brother from the bench. He stood, following her to the playground quietly as she excitedly led him to the swings. William watched them thoughtfully, putting an arm around Clara as she laid her head on his shoulder. Michael was always compliant with his sister, showing a seemingly soft spot for her. His father was grateful for that...Elizabeth needed that sibling affection, especially now.

He watched in satisfaction as his eldest son pushed his sister on the swing-set, helping her soar joyfully into the air. Michael was getting better...but he still had a long way to go. 

Clara snuggled closer to him, content as she watched over her children. William allowed himself a small smile, turning his wrist to check his watch. Just a few more hours...

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Allan tapped his foot on the concrete sidewalk impatiently. He told his new hiree-what was his name again? Daniel? David? Ugh. It didn't matter anyway...whoever it was was supposed to be there by 11:30. It was now 11:45. He looked up and down the road for any sign of anything, unnecessarily getting his hopes up when a vehicle would approach then pass the restaurant by.

He looked on with tired eyes, trying to see through the darkness as another car started his way. Its headlights were fairly low-lower than most other vehicles out at this time. Allan felt a sense of relief as it slowed and turned into the parking lot, easing into a stall near the entrance. That must be him.

He headed towards the vehicle as a taller man stepped out, locking the car. "Hey," he called, walking closer. The man looked his way and waved, a gold badge on his chest blinking in the dim streetlight across the lot. "David?" Allan asked, coming to stand next to him. "Dave," the man responded. "Oh, my mistake," he said, not really caring as he felt for an object in his pocket. "You're late."

Dave nodded. "Sorry." Allan rolled his eyes, holding out a set of spare keys. "Yeah, well, don't do it in the future. Anyway, like I said last week, it's twelve till six, stay the entire time, there's a security camera system in the office...you'll figure it out." Dave nodded, taking the keys, hanging them on his belt. "Someone'll come at the end of your shift to open shop, so don't worry about locking the doors. Oh-and don't use up too much power, the animatronics are on "free-roam mode," so they might wander in or something. It won't do ya anything, but they're real creepy at night."

Dave nodded again, looking at the building, not saying a word. This guy definitely gave Allan weird vibes...and he's hired some strange people. "Alright, well uh...I'm headin' out. Good luck," he said, turning hesitantly to his car. He watched as Dave went inside without turning on any lights...heading straight to the security office. Odd. Allan didn't recall telling him where that was. He shrugged to himself. Didn't matter.

Allan stepped into his car, pressing the keys into the ignition, twisting around to drop the hiree papers into the backseat. He turned back around to see a dark figure at his window. He jumped, swearing loudly. The figure shrank back a little, cautiously knocking on the glass. Allan flicked on a flashlight from his cupholder, shining it through the window...it was just Dana. He groaned, rolling down his window. "The heck ya want, Dana?!" He said angrily, looking at the young employee.

"I'm sorry Al, I left my wallet inside, could I use your keys to go get it?" The woman asked anxiously. The man rolled his eyes. "Doors are already unlocked, there's a security guard inside." Dana nodded hesitantly. "Oh-uh, thanks," she said, waving awkwardly as she backed away. Allan shook his head, huffing as he shoved the car into gear, speeding out of the lot. Dana watched him go, fingering her scarf. He was always in such a mood, especially now with this whole police fiasco.

Her head turned as Ray called from the passenger seat of her small car. "You got 'em?" He asked. "The doors are already unlocked-I'll just be a minute," the woman replied, hurrying towards the entrance. The teen nodded, lifting up the magazine he was reading. 

Dana quickened her pace to the entrance, flicking on a key-ring flashlight as she pushed the doors open. Where did she last have her wallet...it was Party Room Four, right? She turned down one of the long hallways and into the doorway, aiming the light around. She tucked a strand of her dirty-blonde hair behind her ear as the glow swept past all the tables. There it was. 

She hurried to a table near the entrance and unbuttoned the wallet, making sure everything was still inside. She nodded in relief, preparing to close it again as her driver's license caught the reflection of a man standing tall behind her. Her eyes widened and she whipped around, only to feel strong fingers wrap around her throat and force her to the table with a painful crack.

She coughed, shocked as she pried at the hand. The man leaned closer, coming more into view as her flashlight on the table illuminated his face. "Who are you?" He demanded, keeping a firm hold on her neck-not enough to prevent air-flow, but certainly not comfortable, keeping her entirely at his mercy. "D-Dana-my name is Dana," she choked out, feeling beads of sweat gather on her face.

The man narrowed his eyes, as if to detect any trace of a lie. His gaze swept lower to the nametag on her shirt, now visible with her coat open from the scuffle. He read the embroidered "Employee-Freddy Fazbear's" underneath her name and released her. "My apologies," he murmured as she clutched her throat, sitting up. Dana rubbed her neck, reaching for her flashlight. "Are...are you the new nightguard?" She asked, still more than apprehensive of this man. He nodded. "Wow, um...Allan really got the right guy, huh..." she said awkwardly, trying to ease the building tension in the room.

He shrugged carelessly. "Just doing my job," he said monotonously. "I didn't think any employees would still be here." Dana nodded hesitantly, taking her wallet from the table. "Yeah, uh, we aren't usually here this late, but we've ran into a spot with the police, can't work until later in the day, you know? And I forgot some stuff," she said, holding up her wallet. 

The man nodded, bending to pick up some of the items that had fallen from her purse. "So, what's your name?" She asked, looking at the gleaming badge on his shirt as he handed her her loose change and old receipts. "Dave," he replied. 

Dana nodded, trying to think of how to get out of there without making things more awkward. Just as she started to speak again, Ray's voice echoed down the hall. "Yo, Dana, you here?" He called, his footsteps approaching. Dave looked at her with an eyebrow raised. She swallowed, hurrying into the corridor. "Yeah, yeah, sorry! I-" she said, looking back at the guard. "I just forgot where I put my wallet," she finished. 

Ray walked up closer to her. "Hey, it's cool," he said as Dave stepped out of the Party Room. "Woah, woah, who are you?!" The teen asked, completely caught off guard as the man came into view. 

"This is Dave," Dana said, gesturing. "What is... _Dave_ doing here?" Ray asked in suspicion. "I'm the nightguard," the man replied. The teen's eyes flickered to the badge on his purple shirt. "I didn't know we had one," he muttered. The guard looked at him apprehensively. "May I ask who _you_ are?"

"Uh-the name's Ray. I work here, Dana's my ride home. Are we going to go soon, by the way?" The teen replied, looking at the woman. "Yeah, sorry. Let's go," she said, walking away from the guard. "Um. Bye Dave," she called, hurrying Ray towards the entrance. Dave waved, watching them leave before turning back towards the office.

Ray scratched his head with a confused look on his face, glancing back at the restaurant. "Weird guy," he said, climbing into the passenger seat. "Uh huh..." Dana muttered. She rubbed her neck as she started the car. She could almost still feel those iron-like fingers. "You good?" The teen asked, peering at her over the pages of his magazine. "Yeah. I'm fine," she replied quietly. 

As she pulled out of the parking lot, she could almost see the golden orb of a flashlight through the windows of the pizzeria. 

Definitely a weird guy.


	8. Kiddies, Radios, and Work, Oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Dream Your Dream by TryHardNinja!

Henry sighed, taking a sip of his cooling coffee as he sat down at the breakfast table. "Hey, Nora," he murmured, sitting next to his wife. She didn't speak, instead giving his hand a squeeze as he took his seat. Things had been difficult for them both since Charlotte's funeral last weekend, and Eleanor was taking it especially hard. Charlie was their only child after all...and Henry hadn't told anyone the truth about her murder. 

The man picked up the newspaper on the table and flipped it open, scanning through the latest events before one of the bigger stories caught his eye. 

_"Four children missing at local pizzeria in Richfield, Utah, police looking for suspects as investigation..."_

He stopped at that headline, heart thumping. Henry suddenly felt sick as he read on. No witnesses to their disappearance, no clues to their whereabouts, no cameras were on to catch anything...and it happened at a Fazbear's Entertainment location. This can't be a coincidence. Were the children's names listed?

His eyes scanned further down the page where four black and white school photos with names and identification information lay printed underneath the story with phone numbers to call. He read over it, trying desperately to remember that list he found in William's workshop. But that was months ago and his mind only drew blanks.

He clutched the paper tightly in frustration-this _had_ to be William, it _had_ to be...and now Henry just let him get away with four more murders. 

Eleanor took his hand, looking at him in concern. "Henry? Is everything alright, dear?" She asked. He clutched the paper tightly, teeth clenched. "Yeah...I've just...I've got to make some calls."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

William left the restaurant at 6:15 that morning. He wasn't as satisfied as he'd have liked to have been from the night's occurrences... the robots didn't even move. But they _did_ make sounds he knew wasn't programmed. Which was something.

He walked to his car, the town around him quiet as he unlocked it and stepped in. He loosened his tie a little as he started the car, turning on the radio on his way out of the lot. His eyes flickered from the road to the dials, switching through channels as he continued southward. Ugh. Only hippie music...that stuff was terrible.

He rolled his eyes, changing the channel again until finally, a news station came on. Better than the hippies, he thought, placing his hand back on the wheel. For a half hour, the only things that played were weather reports, a bit about a new kangaroo at a local zoo, and a take the latest political controversy.

At this point, William had zoned out, feeling somewhat tired as he continued down mostly empty roads home. The sun was bright on his left, shining painfully into his eyes as it rose. What re-awoke his attention was a missing-child report...four children exactly.

William listened as the newsman gave descriptions of the kids along with a call for the community to be on watch for them. Search parties had commenced and they were asking for more volunteers. 

He listened to all this with smug satisfaction...and began to laugh. It started as a low rumble in his chest and gradually grew into a full guffaw, making his shoulders shake and breath spasm. He was the mastermind, he was the genius behind it all, _he_ was the killer. He almost wanted to call the station and tell them himself. I did it! He thought. All underneath their parents' noses, no less! They didn't even know their own children were _dead!_

William's being soared in elation and in pride, a contented smile growing widely on his face. No, they'd never find their children. Not until it'd have been too late, him gone with all the information he needed, their little darlings well dead.

He smiled all the way home. He did it...and it felt _wonderful_...

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Sure thing, Ray. No, it's no problem...uh huh. Thanks. Yep, see you tomorrow." Dana hung up the phone, returning to her late breakfast. She picked up the newspaper and skipped to the comic strips and crosswords in the back, picking up a pencil to start solving the puzzle. She had gone about three questions in, just having answered "Part of Santa costume?" (beard) when the phone rang again.

"Hello?" She questioned, holding the handset between her ear and shoulder as she continued the crossword. "It's Allan," the man on the other end replied. "Oh-good morning sir," she said, setting down her pencil. "Yeah, whatever. Hey, I'm switching you to night-duty stuff with the new guy," he said.

"What-why?" Dana asked, taken aback. "With all this police crap, I want security tighter. Jay's movin' to night-cleaning too, so he'll be there an hour or so into your shift. I've got two guys hired to take your places as day-guards."

"Oh," Dana murmured. "What...am I supposed to do, then?" She asked. "Patrol, duh. Be grateful, it's gonna be like free money for you, nobody would want to break into a dumpy kid's place anyway. Your badge and shirt will be in the office. First day is Wednesday," he answered. 

"Thank yo-" she began, cut off as Allan hung up. She raised an eyebrow in annoyance and looked at the phone for a minute before putting it back on the hook. Great...shifts with Mr. Weirdo-Guard. She hummed as she picked up her pencil and went back to her crossword. Allan was right though...free cash. Better than picking up after kids' party messes.

Dana grabbed a sticky-note stack from the center of the table.

"First shift-Wednesday at 11:40pm-don't be late," she wrote, turning to stick it on the fridge.

"Well, Dave...looks like we're gonna get to know each other better."


	9. Bumps and Bruises and Late Night Cruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Drawn to the Bitter by DHuesta!

William groaned, turning over in his bed at the sound of his alarm clock. He flicked it off, yawning as he stepped out onto the carpeted floor. It was really weird getting up at 2:30 in the afternoon. He stood, pulling on a button-up shirt as the sound of muffled crying echoed from down the hall. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he peered out of the doorway, moving to follow the sound.

He walked into the living room to see Elizabeth sniffling, eyes red and watery as she clutched Michael's arm, who was currently sitting on the couch while Clara cleaned the blood off multiple injuries on his face and limbs. William looked at his wife in confusion, who simply looked at him and shook her head with a small frown.

"What's going on?" The man asked, arms crossed. "M-Mike-e..." Elizabeth sniffled, breath hitching. "H-He got h-hurt t-trying to h-help me," she said, trying to suppress her tears. William sat on the ottoman across from her and put a hand on her knee, peering at her through her messy hair. "What happened?" He asked.

"Mike t-took me to the park and some b-boys w-were being mean to m-me," she continued. She hiccupped, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. "They w-were calling me n-names and Mike told them to s-stop, but they laughed at u-us, a-and...and one of them pulled my h-hair, s-so Mike h-hit him, b-but then they-they-all started hurting h-him," the blonde whimpered, not able to hold back the tears now streaming down her face.

William felt a rush of anger that quickly turned to sadness as he moved to sit next to her, picking her up and setting her in his lap as her shoulders shuddered and shook. She cried fully into his shirt as he held her, all while Michael sat quietly next to them. The man looked over Elizabeth's head at his son, who maintained a stoic mien while Clara rubbed alcohol swabs over bloody scratches and cuts. The teen absentmindedly ran his fingers over a black eye that was becoming more and more colored, not paying much attention to the bandages and wrappings his mother was applying to his injuries.

William looked back down at Elizabeth, who had now fallen asleep and was snoozing peacefully on his lap, an occasional hiccup between breaths. Clara stood with a handful of bloodied tissues and bandage wrappers. "I'm going to go take care of this," she said softly, taking the first-aid bucket in her other hand. "Stay there Mike," she said, moving to the hallway.

The teen leaned over a little, clutching the edge of the couch cushions in silence. Quiet passed for a moment as William peered at him out the corner of his eye. "Michael," he said. The boy glanced his direction, then back to the floor. "Are you okay...?" He asked hesitantly, words he hadn't spoken to his son in months. "I'm fine," he muttered quietly. 

William looked at the teen, sighing. "Thank you for taking care of her," he said, running a hand up and down Elizabeth's back. "I had to," Michael replied, looking at his sister. The man nodded in agreement. "How many boys were there?" He questioned. "Four," the boy answered, looking at his hands. "And you got in a fight with them?" William continued.

Michael paused, then nodded. "They your age?" His father asked. The teen shrugged. "A little older...sixteen and seventeen maybe." William listened quietly, looking at the numerous bruises and scratches on his son's arms and face, a few tears in his shirt, hair messy. "Who were they?" He asked. Michael shrugged again carelessly. "Never seen them before. I think they were from another neighborhood or something."

The man nodded, looking back at his daughter. "If you see them again, tell me," he said. The teen nodded, a slight frown on his face. William put a hand on Michael's shoulder, feeling how the boy stiffened under his touch. "That was brave, to stand up to those thugs. I'm proud of you," he said softly. For the first time in weeks, Michael looked his father in the eyes. He nodded hesitantly. "Thanks dad," he said quietly. 

Clara came back into the living room, an ice pack in hand. "Here, Mike," she said gently, handing it to her son. He took it, holding it over his eye, standing to move to the kitchen. His mother stopped him, giving him a hug before letting him leave. She moved to sit next to her husband, moving a strand of hair from Elizabeth's face. "I'll take her to her room," William murmured, checking his watch. His wife nodded with a sigh.

"Do you have work tonight?" She asked. He nodded. "Okay," she said, giving his hand a squeeze before letting him stand, Elizabeth in his arms. He carried her down the hallway to her room, setting her gently in her bed, placing a kiss on her forehead before leaving, closing the door quietly behind him. 

He didn't notice a puppet peering in through the curtained window.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dana pulled into the Freddy's Pizzeria parking lot, easing into a stall near the entrance. She checked her watch. 11:30 PM-early. She walked to the garbage can outside the glass doors and felt the concrete ground around it before feeling a set of keys. She still thought it somewhat reckless for Allan to just leave them here for her instead of just giving them to her personally, but whatever.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside, ready to look for Ray before remembering his night shifts didn't start until next week. She groaned at that thought...she did _not_ want to have to meet Dave again alone. Just her luck.

She walked down the tiled hallway to the security office where a folded purple button-up shirt, black tie, belt, and badge lay on the desk. She picked up the clothes and made her way to the bathrooms, changing into her uniform. She glanced in the foggy mirror before leaving, making sure everything looked okay-which it did, but the shirt was a little big. She took her other clothes back to her car before settling in one of the chairs in the office, waiting anxiously for her partner to arrive.

Dana picked up a book she brought, checking the time every few minutes before the sound of the front door opening alerted her. 11:58 PM. She stood, setting her book on the desk. She stepped out into the hall, peering down the corridor to the moonlit main-room. "Dave?" She called.

"Hello?" he answered, a hint of suspicion in his voice, coming into view of the hall-light. "Hey, it's Dana," she said, walking forward to meet him. "Oh yes-I remember you. What are you doing here?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. "Allan switched me to night-shift," the woman replied, not hiding her annoyance. "Ah." Dave said, sounding irked.

"Yeah...um...guess we better get started," Dana said awkwardly, walking back to the office. She went back to her seat and picked up her book as her partner pulled a notepad and pen from a briefcase he brought, booting up the security cameras. She glanced at the tablet he held, watching as he toggled the control to face the stage. Dana shuddered at the sight.

"Something wrong?" Dave asked lowly, noticing her movement. "I just never liked how those things look at night...they're creepy," she said, a look of disgust on her face. "Hmm," the man replied, changing the camera to the one observing Pirate Cove. Dana raised her book again and read for nearly two hours in silence while her partner watched the cameras.

She was nearing the end, contently turning the next page when Dave suddenly stood from his seat, causing her to jump in surprise. "What?" She asked anxiously as he looked closely at the cameras. "They moved," he murmured in excitement. "Well, yeah, I mean...they're on free-roam," Dana said obviously. "Yes, but they didn't move at all last night. Now look, these two have gotten off the stage," he said, showing her the tablet. 

Sure enough, Bonnie and Chica were standing idly near some of the party tables, emitting strange noises, almost like static. It must be from the camera feed, she thought. The animatronics don't make those sounds. She opened her book, ready to go back to it when Dave started writing furiously on his notepad. "Uh, what's that for?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

The man paused. "Just...documenting," he muttered. "Documenting what? Not like it matters if they're walking around," Dana continued. Dave took a deep breath, thinking for a moment. "I'm actually into paranormal stuff, uh...thought these creepy robots might...you know..." he mumbled. "What, you think they're haunted or something?" She chuckled. The man shrugged. 

"Hey, whatever floats your boat. I used to be into that stuff in high school, used ouija boards every weekend with friends. Maybe I can help you take notes or something," she said with a smile. Dave paused, looking conflicted before he shrugged again and nodded.

"Cool. I'll go take a look," Dana said, grabbing her flashlight from the desk. "Wait, you're going to go in person?" He questioned, surprised. "Why not? Not like they're fast or anything," she laughed. "Be back in a jiffy."

She walked down the hall, shoes clicking on the floor as she aimed her flashlight forward. The light caught the chicken robot with its head upwards, mouth open. The rabbit was closer to the stage, no longer holding its guitar. Dana's sudden confidence flickered out at the sight of the animatronics...man...what kind of programming makes them look up at the cameras like that? Like they're alive, watching you. The woman shook her head vigorously. "You're freaking yourself out, these things aren't _haunted,_ that's ridiculous," she muttered softly to herself. 

She looked up to where the chicken had its gaze turned and saw one of the cameras with a red light on, indicating that Dave was looking through it back in the office. Dana walked to the frozen robot and put a hand on its shoulder casually and waved at the screen. She waved a hand in front of the animatronic's face, then shrugged, and went back to the office.

Dave kept his interest low-key while she read her book, waiting until 6:00 came. When it did, the robots had gotten far enough to stand at the hallway entrance, frozen as statues; something her partner made note of.

The two stood and made their way past the figures and to the entrance. "Something smell weird to you?" Dana asked as strange wafts passed under her nose as they walked by the party tables. It was like eggs that were going bad, and she hadn't noticed it until then. Dave shook his head. "Hmm," she said, eyebrows furrowed. Weird.

"Well, uh...see you tomorrow," she said as they left the building, each going different directions to their vehicles. He waved, unlocking his car. Dana watched as he left the lot and drove off, thinking over the night she spent with her new partner. Honestly, not as bad as she predicted.

She hummed to herself and climbed into her car. "Not too bad for a first day."


	10. Of Hope and Woe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, just wanted to say that this is NOT a storyline chapter, it's just a glimpse at... well... this moment. Highly recommend listening to the official music for it. Here's a link-> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2KWgy39ODk&list=PLx8ZbufwaYU8vDXK7MFujhWjJJbyaRNOa&index=12
> 
> If that doesn't work, look up "Five Nights at Freddy's 4-Good Ending Soundtrack" on YouTube.
> 
> Thanks!
> 
> FNAF Song of the Day: Tomorrow is Another Day by Stagged!

William clenched his teeth tightly, trying not to let his increasingly watery eyes spill tears. He walked nearer to the bed and sat in the chair next to it, the only sounds his shaky breathing and the heart-beat monitor quietly beeping at his side.

He extended a trembling hand to Chris's, feeling its lifelessness in his fingers. It brought him so much anguish, seeing his little boy in that green gown and tucked into white sheets, watching as the face mask steadily fogged, then cleared as the he breathed. His chest rose and fell so slowly...

William squeezed Chris's hand, shaking more as a lump welled in his throat. He looked at the child's head where numerous bandages were wound around his upper face, though there was still room to see his eyes which were closed and unmoving. The man couldn't hold it in anymore. Streams of hot tears spilled down his cheeks, dripping off onto the mattress while William shook and cried.

He laid his head in his arms while he wept, one hand grasping Chris's tightly. Why? Why did this have to happen to his little boy? He was the sweetest child anyone could ask for...meek, kind, gentle...he didn't deserve this...

The man couldn't stop thinking about all his memories with him. The day he was born, his youngest years-he was so affectionate, always wanting to sit and snuggle with you, no matter what you were doing. Bright, too...always so interested in the world around him, always asking questions, always so intrigued about every little thing. Always...

William looked up at his son, his vision blurry from still-falling tears. The last few months had been absolute torment for the boy. Michael just didn't know when to leave it _alone._ The man felt a strong surge of anger for his eldest child-if it wasn't for him, Chris's last weeks wouldn't have been misery, if not for him, Chris wouldn't be-he wouldn't- 

William felt his heart break, finally comprehending that his son was going to be gone...the doctors told him and Clara that it was likely, given the circumstances, but he just hadn't really grasped it yet. Now he did. 

He looked at Chris. He looked so peaceful, more peaceful than he'd been in months. His eyes were free of tears, his face not in an expression of sadness or fear. He was just asleep, and not dreaming a nightmare. It wasn't fair that only in such woe and hopelessness, he found rest.

As William grasped his child's hand, thoughts quietly wove through the back of his mind. His face relaxed and the tears slowed. He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the boy's head. As he sat back in his chair, he let out a shaky breath, dry lips parting as he whispered.

"I will put you back together."


	11. Welcome to your new and improved Freddy Fazbear's Pizza...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Five Night's at Freddy's 1 Song by The Living Tombstone!

The robots on-stage stirred as midnight struck. Jeremy's spirit began feeling through the metal cogs and springs, warming them up for another evening of hunting. Susie and Gabriel did the same on his left while Fritz could be heard at the other side of the room moving behind his purple curtain. They were all becoming increasingly impatient as the days wore on...it had been far too long for their revenge to remain undealt. They knew their killer was there every night, watching them as they tried to move to his office, but their efforts continued to be fruitless.

They always knew it was him when they watched frozen, unable to move as he walked to the back of the building for his nightly shifts. He'd always give that awful, taunting smile as he went, sometimes a wave or a greeting to accompany it. It only made them loathe him more. They knew for certain it was him because Charlie told them so. The puppet who gave them this new life. He had gotten her too. Not that she knew why.

And so, for six hours they persisted, trying as much as they could to reach that office, but once again, 6:00 AM came, destroying their chances. They were so close that time too. 

Jeremy felt an intense fury boil within him as the man and his partner opened up the door and strolled past him where he stood just outside it, frozen and helpless. He could feel the others stirring with that same rage as the two left the building. Was there any point in all this? 

Would they ever win?

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

William smirked, glancing back through the glass doors at the robots stuck in place as he and Dana left the pizzeria. He was quite satisfied with what data he collected at the restaurant-the animatronics were quite lively during his hours spent there, nearly breaking into the office on several occasions. His partner was entirely convinced that they were just having malfunctions, but...he knew what was really going on.

William had to admit, the robots were seriously deadly and would grow more aggressive as the weeks progressed. He had even considered bringing the handpistol he kept in his workshop but had thus far decided against it. He didn't want Allan freaking out on him for that...it was something he would do.

He flipped through his nightly notes as he walked to his car, Dana beside him finally unplugging her nose. "Gah-I'm glad Allan's got that new location ready for us tomorrow. I can't stand the scent anymore," she said with a disgusted look on her face. William chuckled with a grin and nod. For weeks, their boss had hired multiple cleaning companies to do thorough work at the restaurant because of the mysterious and horrendous smells arising there. It would work initially, but the stench would always return. 

The employees considered themselves lucky that Allan had decided to open up a new location in the center of town months ago-they had no idea their current building would be rendered useless due to smells. About a week prior, it went into operation, and William and Dana were scheduled to start working there that week, although he had been changed to doing night and dayshift through a week-alternating timetable. 

He found it amusing that his coworkers thought they were escaping the stenches of the previous pizzeria for the new one when they planned to bring the animatronics with them for spare parts. They had no idea that the robots were the source of the malodor. Oh well. Fine by him. The place they were moving to was nearly half an hour closer to home for him anyhow.

William unlocked his car, waving at Dana as she pulled out of the parking lot. Tossing his notes onto the passenger seat, he made the two-hour trek home and went immediately to his office-the others were still asleep and he didn't want to wake them up.

He started filing various documents when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Allan."

"Morning, sir," William said, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder as he continued working. 

"Sure. Listen, since you're on both shifts at the new place, I want ya to be keepin' an eye out for suspicious characters. I don't want another police problem on our hands," Allan said, voice static-y on the other end.

"Did something prompt your concern, sir?" William asked, eyes skimming various pieces of mail. "Yeah actually," the manager replied. His eyebrow raised in curiousness as he listened further. "Some guy's been calling me since all the investigation stuff happened, won't leave me alone. Can't block his number either, he keeps callin' from different phones," Allan continued.

William's attention perked. "Do you have a name for the caller?" He asked. "Nah. Apparently he's been callin' Johnny too, asking all sorts a weird questions about the incident. Not gonna lie, it worries me a bit. Anyway. Keep an eye on stuff, alright?" The man finished, obviously getting increasingly uninterested in their talk. "Yes sir. Have a good day," William said, hanging up the phone.

Interesting. He wondered who this man could be. He'd have to be careful...especially since he already had some plans for the new pizzeria. He would need to remain unnoticed by all the right people.

He continued sorting through his files when the phone rang again. "Hello?" He asked. "Mr. Afton?" The man on the other end questioned. "To whom you're speaking," William answered. 

"Mr. Afton, we wanted to update you on the progress of your property. Electrical systems are in place and are at full functionality. You're good to begin interior construction," the caller said. William smiled. "Thank you so much. My check should be in later this week," he spoke. 

"Thank you sir. Pleasure doing business with you," the man said, hanging up. William's grin remained as he glanced at the blueprints for 'Circus Baby's Pizza World' on the wall. Plans were truly in motion now. 

He picked up a pen, about to start on some business documents when the office door opened. "Hey honey," Clara said, hair still somewhat messy as she stood in her robe and slippers. "Morning," William said, looking over at her with a smile. "Could you join us for breakfast this morning, or do you want to go to bed?" She asked. The man put the pen down, feeling how heavy his eyes were getting. "Sure, darling," he said, standing, blinking away the sleepiness. It wasn't every day he got to spend an early meal with his family.

He put a hand around her waist as they walked to the kitchen. Elizabeth and Michael were already seated and eating pancakes. William took a seat next to his daughter, ruffling her hair with a chuckle while Clara went back to attending to the grittle. The girl groaned, using one hand to try and smooth her hair back down. _"Daaaaad,"_ she whined. "What?" He teased. 

Michael chuckled quietly to himself as he watched them from the other side of the table. His father looked at him from the corner of his eye as Clara set a plate of pancakes at the center of the table. "Say, Mike, my new franchise is ready for design work. Why don't you come with me this weekend to help work on it?" He asked, an eyebrow raised. 

The teen looked up, glancing to the side as if to make sure it was really him his father was speaking to. "Uh...really?" He asked quietly. "Sure. If you ever decide you want to take up the business, it'd be helpful to have some experience," William said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice. "Um. Yeah, okay," his son replied, slightly cheerier. The man nodded with a smile as Clara took a seat beside him. "You've changed your schedule though, haven't you honey?" She asked, reaching for a fork.

He nodded. "Yep. Got some new things to do," he said. "Sounds fun," his wife said. "I kind of liked having you home more though," she said with a teasing grin, giving him a kiss on his cheek. He chuckled with a grin. "Me too."

But, he thought to himself as they started in on breakfast. This new schedule meant new opportunities. And he was _not_ going to let those go to waste. No.

There were some birthday boys and girls that were in for a real treat.


	12. What are you doing here??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Thanks for reading. If you're enjoying this work, then check out this story from my good friend, blue87-another re-telling of FNaF with an OC!
> 
> Forgotten: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448253/chapters/64440706
> 
> FNAF Song of the Day: Painted Faces by Trickywi!

William unlocked the door to his new building, kicking aside some stray planks of wood as Michael followed in after him. "This is it?" The teen asked shyly, looking around the giant space. "Sure is," the man answered, flicking on the lights. White-golden bulb sheets flickered on high above them, casting a soft glow over the dining and play area, especially bright over stage. 

"Alright," William said, lifting a broom from a crate he brought in with them. "I'm going to start cleaning windows; you take care of floors. Put any junk in the dumpsters 'round back," he said, handing the broom to his son. Michael nodded and got to work, quietly tossing various garbage into a pile while his father switched on a radio, playing some of his favorite hits from the sixties. 

The man whistled along to the music, spraying down the glass while his son swept. Eventually, the boy started humming with him. He watched in satisfaction as Michael diligently worked without complaint. The kid almost seemed to enjoy it. 

“You ever considered taking up the business?” He asked, peering at the teen from the corner of his eye. Michael paused before answering. “I mean, I’ve thought about it,” he said apprehensively. William hummed. “It might be the thing for you. Your teachers tell me you have an aptitude for mechanics,” he added. His son paused in his sweeping, gazing forward absent-mindedly. “I guess you could say that,” he said, tone vacant. 

“What sort of things do you do?” His father questioned, wiping down the last window. “Car stuff, mainly,” Michael answered. “We don’t have much else at school, and I like taking apart the engines, seeing if I can put them back together, you know?” William chuckled. “Well, can you?” He inquired jovially. The teen shrugged with a small smile. “Sometimes. I’m getting better though.” 

His father made a sound of acknowledgement with a smile. “Sometime I should show you how my robots work,” he offered, opening some of the large cardboard boxes stacked in the middle of the room. He began pulling out its contents, most of which were various table and chair pieces and stage props. Michael nodded. “Yeah, that...that could be fun,” he said with a rare look of contentment. “It’s a deal, then,” the man smiled. “Now, come help me with these boxes.” 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

William pushed open the door to the new pizzeria, glancing at the other employees preparing the restaurant for the day's activities. The robots on-stage were certainly unlike the ones at the last location; plastic instead of soft fuzz with a more circus-like appearance with circles on their cheeks and exaggerated features. He was well aware of the small fortune Allan spent adding protection measures to the animatronics, not for the safety of the children of course, but rather as a precaution to avoid further incidents. The man hadn’t tried hard to hide that fact. 

He turned down the hall as his coworkers continued unboxing party hats and balloons in the dining room. He walked to a wide doorway at the end of the corridor and stepped inside, eyeing the things littered around the room. Like the last security office, there were numerous child-drawings of various animatronics scattered around like a tattered wallpaper. Stacks of televisions lay in the corners, one larger on the desk in the center of the room. 

The man walked to the desk and opened one of its drawers, fingering through files until he found the one he was looking for. He pulled a small stack of papers from it and glanced through them, making mental notes as he went. Printed on the pages were addresses of the other Fazbear Entertainment locations around town and in the nearby cities, one in particular he wanted to look into. He pulled its paper from the others and folded it neatly, tucking it in his pocket, then put the others back in the drawer. 

William strolled out of the office and down the hallway, adjusting his day-guard badge as he re-entered the dining room. “Hey, Dave!” One of the workers called, waving. He looked their direction, watching as they hefted a large purple and white present box to the prize corner. 

“We found an animatronic out in the alley, decided to salvage it. Could you take a look? We don’t know if anything needs fixin’,” the man said, pushing the box against the wall. As Dave was now also an animatronic technician, his co-workers had been coming to him with all sorts of questions about their prized robots. It could be annoying at times, but in all honesty, being in that position could help cover his involvement in the child disappearances. 

He nodded, heading their direction. “Here it is,” the worker said, gesturing to the inside of the box. “If ya need anything, let us know,” he said, turning the direction his partner was going, out the delivery doors where a food truck was waiting with shipments of party snacks. William peered his head over the box to see a crumpled mess of black and white stripes in humanoid form. 

He gently lifted the figure from the box and carried it to a ‘Parts and Service’ room, shutting the door behind him. He set the thing on a table and flicked on the light. The animatronic resembled a puppet without strings, long, thin limbs with abnormally large hands and head. William thought he recognized it as he gazed at its mask, looking intently at its cherry-red lips and circles on its cheeks, its eyes empty and hollow. White buttons and stripes lined its chest and limbs in perfect symmetry. The only thing that threw him off were the purple streaks falling from its eye sockets to the edge of its face, mimicking tears. He hadn’t seen anything like it. 

That’s when it clicked. This was that machine Henry made to protect Charlie. What was it doing here, he wondered? They were nearly a two-hour drive from Hurricane. He looked into its eye sockets, where he swore, he could see dim flickers of light. That’s when he felt a twisted, furious energy fill the room, cutting to his core. 

“Ah,” he murmured as things began falling into place in his mind. “Hello, Charlotte,” he said softly with a smile. The atmosphere somehow grew with more anger at the use of her full name. William knew now with a certainty that it was her-the only people she allowed to address her that way were her parents, more so Henry. “So that thing came for you after all. Pity it was too late,” he said in a hushed tone. “And you came all the way here to see me, hmm?” 

The lights in the puppet’s eyes flashed dangerously, but it did not move. It seemed unable to. “Well, my dear,” William said, lifting its limbs one by one with care, checking their functionality. “I’m flattered, but whatever you’re trying to do here isn’t working.” He could almost feel a human-like warmth as he ran his hand over various locks along its neck and back, making sure they were all tight. 

William looked at its eyes, cold and unmoving as he drew a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping away dirt smears on its porcelain face. “This is new,” he said with an eyebrow raised as he paused over the tear tracks. He added pressure to the cloth, seeing if it would come off. “Your doing, then?” He questioned. It didn’t reply. “Well Charlie, you seem to be in full working order. I think you’re ready for our parties outside, hmm?” 

He lifted the puppet from the table, cradling it in one arm like he would a child as he left the room. The workers were nearly done carrying in boxes of frozen food as he entered the dining room. “Good, then?” One asked, looking his way. “Absolutely perfect,” William replied with a wide smile. 

He carried it back to the present box and gently eased it inside with care. “See you soon. Be good for the children,” he said with a pleased smile. It seemed to emit wrathful vitality as he closed the lid, shutting the puppet in darkness. “See you very soon.” 


	13. "My name is Henry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Break the Cycle by TryHardNinja!

Dana sighed, copying down scheduled parties for the next few days on the company calendar (one of the many tasks Allan gave her to do during her night-shift) and checked the clock. Was it really only 1:08 AM? Time passes slower when you're alone, she thought, scribbling down the next birthday event. More people were coming to their new location, likely because of its proximity to suburban areas and its new attractions. Personally, she preferred the ones back at the last place. Less plastic-y.

She adjusted the fan on her desk, thinking about the original robots now sitting, unused in the back room. It made her sad for whatever reason...sure, they were older, but they definitely seemed friendlier-up until they started going nuts during her and Dave's shifts, of course. But they hadn't moved since arriving at the new building. Maybe they just wanted a change of scenery, she considered. It'd drive her crazy being stuck up on stage for years. They probably needed to stretch a little.

As she moved to begin filing party requests, the sound of footsteps started approaching from the dark hallway. Dana froze, not sure what to do-she was the nightguard of course, but what now? She didn't have a weapon! Her mind came back to her as she flipped on the security cameras, though the only thing she could see was a shadowy figure wearing a beige fedora and matching trench-coat.

Beads of sweat began to materialize on her face and her heart-beat quickened at the sound of dress-shoes clicking on the tiled floor ahead in the darkness. The most she had was her heavy-duty flashlight-maybe she could hit the intruder over the head. But, she had to see who it was first. She gulped, flicking it on.

A sense of relief calmed her slightly as the light illuminated the figure in the hallway. He didn't look threatening or that he meant to do harm...he must have been nearly six feet tall, hands tucked into his pant pockets as he leaned against the wall. His neatly cut blonde, slightly graying hair reflected brightly, as did his dark blue eyes which were fixed on her as she examined him. 

"Good evening...though, really, I should say morning," the man said, checking his watch on the arm not pressed to the wall. "Who are you? Do you work here?" Dana demanded, getting to her feet. "My name is Henry. And no," he answered, eyes rather tired-looking. She thought she could almost see a deadness in them, though there was a sense of determination she got from it. "What are you doing here? We closed hours ago," She questioned, keeping the flashlight trained on him.

The man cautiously took a step into the office, the overhead light now showing him completely as he removed his hat. "It's Dana, right?" Henry asked, raising an eyebrow. The woman's jaw clenched and her heart-beat quickened again. "Y-Yeah," she stuttered. "H-How do you know that?"

"Employee archives," the man answered simply, as if it was something she should have easily guessed. "I wanted to talk to you," he continued, one hand holding the fedora to his torso, the other still in his pocket. "About?" Dana questioned, her grip on the flashlight tight. "The events that occurred at your previous location, of which I'm sure you're aware." 

The woman nodded slowly. "Are you a cop or something? Investigators stopped meeting with us weeks ago," she said in an unsure tone. "I'm not," Henry answered, his blue eyes still on her. "But, I guess you could call me something of a vigilante. I'm doing my own research on the disappearances that happened at Freddy's last month."

Dana raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Why would you want to ask _me_ about that? Allan's the one to go to," she said. Henry sighed with a look of remembrance and annoyance on his face. "I've tried talking to him already. Won't speak a word to me...and your fellow co-workers aren't exactly people I'd trust to give me factual information."

Dana had to agree with him there. Aside from Ray, she was one of the only people there who wasn't a high-school drop out who did nothing but show up to work and party hard on the weekends. A lot of the employees seemed to be perpetually uninterested in anything that didn't directly involve them, and they often didn't pay much attention to what happened at the restaurant. 

But, there was her partner. He was hard to discern, but he had a good work ethic and was never late-he even covered for some of her shifts she couldn't make.

"What about Dave? Or Ray?" She asked, her hold on the light loosening. He didn't seem like a danger now. 

"I don't want to approach Mr. Johnson if I can avoid it. He's still a minor if I remember correctly. Who was the other one you mentioned?" Henry said, puzzled. 

"Dave-I think his last name is Miller or something. He's the other nightguard, does some day-guard stuff? He's also our animatronic technician?" She responded, somewhat confused. "I thought you said you got my name from the archive."

Henry nodded. "I did. I don't recall a Dave though...perhaps it hasn't been updated," he said, one hand on his chin in thought. Dana shrugged. It was definitely a task that she could see Allan not caring much about. "So...what did you want to ask me about?" She questioned hesitantly. 

"Right. Well, first of all, I believe that what happened at Freddy's was...malicious. And for that reason, I want first-hand accounts of what went on that day, if you would be so kind as to assist me," he said determinedly. "Sure," Dana replied. 

For what must have been the twelfth time, she recounted everything she had done and observed in that two hour block-which certainly wasn't much. Re-filled the party favor box, cleaned some tables, blew up some balloons, and read magazines with Ray for a bit. Pretty simple.

While she spoke, Henry jotted down her words with incredible speed on a pocket note-pad he had kept on the inside of his coat, stopping her once or twice to verify information. "And you're sure you didn't see them leave anywhere?" He asked again, pen poised over the paper. 

She nodded. "The only one I noticed was gone was that blonde girl-Susie or something. She asked for help with the carousel ride hours before everyone started freaking out, which is why I realized she was missing later." Henry nodded, reviewing the pages of notes he had in his hand. 

"Thank you for your help. It means a lot for me," he said, tucking the pad back into his pocket. Dana swallowed, feeling how dry her lips were. "You think someone hurt them? That someone did something to them?" She asked hesitantly. The man sighed tiredly and nodded. "Yes. That is my belief."

He straightened, looking as if he were about to leave when Dana stopped him. "Wait," she said, one hand out. He turned and looked up at her attentively. "I want to help you," she said softer. He raised an eyebrow. 

"I lost a friend to a kidnapping years ago. We never got justice for him..." she said unsteadily, feeling her throat tighten. "If you're right, and someone's taken these kids from their families, I wanna make sure they have what's coming to them." Henry looked at her for a moment in silence, almost in reverent respect. "It would definitely be helpful to have more than one person on this case," he said, gaze fixed on her. 

"Is that a 'yes', then?" Dana asked hopefully. "If you can promise me two things," Henry said, eyes looking intently at her. She waited in anticipation for his response. "One, you won't tell anyone about this. Not your friends, not your family, and certainly not your co-workers," he stated with firmness. She nodded resolutely. "And two-if you find anything, or if you go places _looking_ for anything-you'll tell me. Can you promise me that?" He asked. His tone gave the authoritative feel of a parent that somewhat caught Dana wanting to tell only the truth. She nodded again. "I promise," she said firmly.

Henry smiled-something he hadn't done until now, she realized. It made her feel happy, made her want to smile herself with its same warmth and kindness. "Here," he said, handing her a paper he tore from his notepad, a series of numbers and an address on it. "My number for when you need to call me. I already have yours. I'll be staying at a motel twenty minutes from here for the next week or so, maybe longer," he said, pointing at the address. 

Dana nodded, trying to memorize the information as Henry placed his hat on his head and turned to the doorway. "Goodnight-stay safe," he said, disappearing into the hall. "Night," the woman called, though she wasn't sure he could hear her. She looked back down at the paper and folded it neatly, placing it in her pocket.

What was she getting herself into?


	14. Stay Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Just Gold by MandoPony!

_"Can you hear me?"_

_"I don't know if you can hear me."_

_"....I'm sorry."_

_"You're broken."_

_"We are still your friends."_

_"Do you still believe that?"_

_"I'm still here."_

_"I will put you back together."_

.......................................................................

Those last words softly wound through Chris' mind. He was vaguely aware that someone was clutching his hand, their fingers tough and calloused, yet gentle. He couldn't move, though...he couldn't do anything to make his own hand grab back with that same firmness. At this point, his consciousness existed only within his own head, like he was trapped in an empty shell with no way to control it. The feeling was draining though, and he was becoming more and more numb. 

Chris knew he was dying. He had known that for hours now. Yet, oddly enough...it made him calm. His living nightmare could finally come to an end. No more phantoms and shadows to haunt every dark corner of his mind, no threat to cause him to be in a constant state of tenseness and overwhelming fear. Nothing left to leave him a crying mess locked in dark closets surrounded by frozen machines all focusing their terrible eyes at him. 

He hated it, that ever-going sense of dread. His monsters were everywhere, no matter how many times he went running, tear-ridden to his parents' room for security and comfort. His mother and father always offered it, but that safety only lasted as long as he was with them, then vanish as soon as their presence left. 

Chris hated living like that. He _was_ broken. Battered, like a forgotten toy who's owner had long since abandoned it. He couldn't remember the last time he was truly happy. He couldn't remember anything but the last months that had treated him so horribly. His life was only mind-breaking fear and anguish.

...

Where was he again?

The...the hospital. Yes, that was right. The hospital. It was so strange...he couldn't see or move. He couldn't even open his eyelids. But he could hear things. Adults that hurriedly spoke commands to one another, the sound of mechanical beeping, his mother's cries...

He could feel too. He felt his clothes being replaced with a rougher fabric, baggy and airy. He could feel pricks of needles and a building pressure in his head. A paper band was wound around his wrist and a cup with tubes was placed uncomfortably over his nose and mouth. Gloved hands touched his chest and face, each doing something different. 

He felt the brief times a different set of hands grabbed his. One was soft and gentle-his mother's, surely. The other was rougher and larger and would grip him like if he let go, he'd lose him forever. 

Dad.

Chris could remember in unwanted vividness what led him to all this. He'd begged for Michael to just let him go, that he didn't want to go to the stage. He couldn't see from the tears running furiously, making his vision swim. The hands gripping his arms were strong and firm, holding him tightly as to not let him free as he squirmed and twisted. There was nothing he could do.

He had cried aloud in panicked anguish, trying desperately to get his father's attention. The music around them was too loud, and in his state, he couldn't muster coherent words anyway. It all just came out in strangled yells and screams as they brought him nearer to the monster on stage. 

They had paused in front of it, letting Chris get full view of the golden bear towering above him. He thought it would end there, that Michael and his friends had had their moment of fun. But he was wrong. So horribly wrong. 

He could feel his heart stop in utter terror as they lifted him up with ease, shoving him head-first into the robot's mouth. He screamed, adrenaline fueling his fear as his tears fell somehow more intensely, dripping through the mechanical parts of the bear's mouth. He pushed and pulled, squirming frantically, trying to get himself free as the jaws moved up and down around him. 

They let go, letting him dangle, laughing at his horror. He planted his feet on the animatronics' chest in an effort to pull himself out, his tears flowing freely. He pushed harder. But then...

It all happened fast.

He had paused abruptly as a series of clicks echoed around the mouth simultaneously like firecrackers. Then, all at once, the jaw bore down with a sickening crunch. Chris felt something on his head break away with unimaginable pain. He lost all control of his body which fell limp as if there were no bones keeping everything together. He couldn't see. 

At that point, all feeling was gone, which he was sure wasn't a good thing. Screams emitted all around him, but it sounded muffled, like he was trying to hear through a fishbowl. Eventually, the jaw released him and he fell helplessly for a second before large arms caught him. He couldn't tell who it was, but either way, he felt just a little safer. 

Everything that happened from there was a blur.

Voices had woven in and out of his mind, though those last few sentences stuck with him. Whoever spoke-and it might have been more than one person-sounded sad, anguished at his tragedy. He didn't care so much. Not anymore.

...

It took Chris a minute to realize he could no longer hear the gentle beep of the monitor next to him. The hand upon his was gone. Either that or the remaining feeling there had left him. All was silent, and a white light had lightly begun to open above his consciousness-but then cut off promptly. 

...

Chris suddenly felt very strange, like his being had become enveloped in cool water. The sudden feeling of falling racked him, making him panic as he was subjected to other unexpected sensations. Then, all at once, it came to a halt.

He shifted, the cool feel of metal surrounding him. He paused. He could feel again? Confusion seized him as he racked his mind for answers. He had been dying, hadn't he? What was happening?

He hadn't noticed it amidst his disorientation, but his vision had begun to return, now back in full capability. Chris squinted, trying to identify what he was looking at. The room he was in was dark, with rays of white light creeping out from cracks in a doorframe ahead of him. Metal shelves and tables were scattered everywhere, some with tools and mechanical parts atop them. It was then that Chris realized that he was seeing through the curved eye holes of an animatronic mask. 

His limbs were slumped at his sides, unable to move. His legs were propped up, bent in front of him, balanced to stay standing. Through the gaps in the mask, Chris could see that awfully familiar fur, golden as ever. 

"I'm in the robot," he said to himself. "I'm in the robot."

He sat there, bewildered. How did he get there? He looked down inside the suit, expecting to see his body, but only saw the inside of the bulky frame, locks lining the inside of the form against its walls. His physical body wasn't inside this thing. His consciousness was.

"I've gotta move," Chris said to himself, trying to lift the robot's arms. Nothing happened. _"Move,"_ he demanded, as if the command would be followed. "I want. To. MOVE!" He shouted to himself. Suddenly, every part of him tingled intensely and the sight of the closet vanished. 

Chris blinked as he found himself out in the dining room that was mostly empty except for small groups of adults walking around the room, many of which he recognized from his father's staff. None of them seemed to noticed his presence. He looked around, realizing he was several feet from the ground, seemingly levitated. 

One of the workers started his direction, looking right through him. Chris tried to reach out and call to her, but she didn't respond-no one did-as she continued walking his way. She startled the boy as she walked right through him. 

Chris looked down at himself. All he could see was that dreadful Freddy suit, now his only body. Just as he made to move somewhere else, the view of the dining room disappeared and he found himself back in the closet, in the exact spot he had been just moments ago. 

He was beyond confusion. This had to be a dream. 

Chris looked up-though the mask didn't move-as the door in front of him opened, a man at its front. He walked to Chris and grasped his arm, moving it to the side as he set a cardboard box next to him where his hand had been. "See ya later, buddy," the man said solemnly, leaving with the door closed behind him.

Chris began to have an idea about what was happening now.


	15. who are you and what have you done with my father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Below the Surface by Griffinilla!

"Elizabeth, sweetheart, please be careful," William said in exasperation, pulling her away from the limp endoskeletons against the wall. Thanksgiving break had started two days before the week of the holiday, meaning Elizabeth and Michael were home from school. It was nearly lunchtime, and since Clara was teaching at her dance studio, William had to keep an eye on the two while he worked.

Michael looked around the space. He had never been to his father's workshop before and he certainly didn't expect it to be anything like this. The three had driven to a small rental shop where they took an elevator deep underground, then passed through several dark hallways to a large robotics room. He had no idea how expansive this place was, though he wasn't going to go exploring. Elizabeth needed more than one pair of eyes on her.

He put a hand on his sister's shoulder and gestured to one of the tables. "Wanna come draw?" He asked, pointing to a small stack of paper and pencils. She nodded her head vigorously and hurried past him to take a seat at one of the wooden chairs. He sat next to her and took a piece of paper, beginning a sketch of the city outside from memory.

Michael glanced up every now and then and watched his father as he worked on his animatronics, blueprints of the desired end-result hung on the corkboard on the walls. Four plans were laid out there, keeping a lot of the design features he could remember from Fredbear's Diner...

A deep pit formed in his gut at that thought and he shook his head firmly. Don't think about that, he thought to himself, going back to his drawing. They sat there for a little while longer before Elizabeth gasped, causing Michael to look up attentively. "Daddy, it's so pretty!" She squealed, hopping from her seat. His eyes followed her as she hurried to the table his father was at. 

William was adding details to a robot standing in front of him. It was incredibly tall, seven feet at least with various plastic shells as limbs, torso, and head. The man was painting a bright red paint onto the thing's pigtails-the machine was female, then-having already finished its scarlet lips and blush circles. 

"You like her?" He asked, paintbrush raised as he looked at his daughter. She nodded her head, smiling big as she bounced on her toes. "She looks like my dolly!" She beamed, not taking her eyes off it. Michael silently agreed, though her doll was not nearly that large... or off-putting. He didn't know why, but it gave him a bad feeling, like the feeling he got whenever he thought of Fredbear's Diner.

"Her name is Baby," his father said, head craned up as he painted another streak of crimson down the robot's hair as Elizabeth looked up in adoration. "And I don't want you anywhere near her when I'm not with you," he said, suddenly firm and serious. "Even then, you need to keep your distance."

Michael looked up from his paper, a frown on his face. "W...Why?" Elizabeth asked, disappointment evident in her voice. "Because I said so. Right now is fine, but when she's finished, then no," William said, looking at his daughter. He glanced at his son out the corner of his eyes as he spoke. The boy clenched his jaw and went back to his drawing.

"Do you understand?" His father asked. Elizabeth was frowning, looking at the ground. William hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look at him, a questioning look in his mien. She nodded sadly, rubbing her shoe on the ground absentmindedly. "Thank you sweetheart. I just want you to be safe," he said, taking his hand away. The girl sniffed and rubbed her nose, dejected.

"Could you help me?" William asked, holding out the paintbrush to her as he reached for another at the desk beside him. A lightened expression crossed her face as she took it eagerly, painting lines in concentration where her father directed her.

For another two hours, William worked (Elizabeth had gotten bored of painting rather quickly) while Michael finished some shading on one of the concrete buildings he had drawn. It was a little smeared in places, but he was okay with that. It made the piece look rougher. 

"Well, you two, your mother is probably home by now," their father said, looking up at a clock on the wall. Elizabeth stopped playing with the smaller deactivated robots she'd occupied herself with and looked at the clock as well, trying to read it. "31...2," she said, squinting. "2:31, sweetheart," her father corrected. "Right," she responded, standing. 

Michael picked up his papers and followed the two out of the workshop and to the elevator. As they stood inside, steadily going upwards, William peered over the boy's shoulder at his artwork. "That's quite good," he commented, still looking at it. Michael felt his face flush in embarrassment and his grip tightened on the paper. "Thanks," he mumbled, not sure how to respond to the compliment. "May I?" His father asked, holding his hand out.

The teen nodded, handing the sketch to the man. William took it, head cocked to the side as he examined it, all while his son stood anxiously. "It's very well done," his father continued, handing it back to Michael. "You seem to have a good understanding of perspective." The boy shrugged as the elevator doors opened.

As they walked to the parking lot, William pulled his keys from his pocket. "How about you drive?" He said, tossing them to his son. The teen caught them, bewildered. "I don't have my permit yet," he said. His father shrugged, helping Elizabeth with her buckle before climbing into the passenger seat. "No one here waits until they get their permit to start driving. You're old enough anyway."

Michael frowned anxiously before stepping into the driver's seat. He slid the keys into the ignition and pulled on his belt, placing his hands firmly on the wheel. "Now, the pedal on your left is the clutch. The middle is the brake, and the right is the gas. Here's the stick," William said, pointing at the handle between them. "You've got five gears. Put the clutch in for me and hold it there," he directed. 

The teen pushed it in as his father grabbed the stick. "Here's first," he said, putting it forward. "Second, third, fourth, and fifth. This is neutral," he continued, pulling it back to the middle. "When you're driving, you'll need to shift according to your speed. I'll help you with that, but you can only shift when the clutch is in." Michael nodded, though he wasn't sure he understood anything he was being told. 

"Here's reverse, but you won't need to worry about that right now since you'll just be driving forward. Let's go," William directed. Michael kept the pedal down and turned the keys, awakening the vehicle with a start. "Clutch in, just give the car a whisper of gas while you let it out slowly. Don't let it out too early or we'll stall," the man said, keeping his eyes ahead of them.

Michael started letting up the pedal and felt the vehicle start to shudder and buck. "More clutch," his father said calmly. He pushed it back in some, feeling the car steady. Slower, he started letting it back out, this time smoother and the vehicle rolled forward. "Very good. That's the hardest part about working the gears. When you feel the clutch resist, it's just more gas and then you're good. Turn right here," William instructed. 

"Shift up to second, make sure to have the clutch in. And don't worry about people behind you, it'll just stress you out," he said, noticing how the teen's eyes flickered up to the rear-view mirror. "I'll manage them. You just work with the gears." Michael nodded, moving the stick down. The car went forward faster with more force than when his father drove, but it did not shudder this time. "Good. Now up to third," his father continued.

Michael didn't realize that they were almost home already and almost missed the turn into their neighborhood. "Okay," William said as they approached the driveway. "We're going to do a little hill-start practice here, it's all in first gear. Just find that balance with the clutch and gas."

The teen nodded, jaw clenched as his grip on the wheel tightened. He began his turn, shifting down to first as he started up the slanted concrete. The car began to roll backwards as he drove up, and he put in more gas, causing the RPM to roar loudly. William started saying something before the vehicle stopped rolling back and suddenly sped forward, straight towards the closed garage. 

Michael gasped, lifting his foot from the gas, but the car still went onward with speed. His father grabbed the e-brake, pulling it up almost vertically, causing them to stop with a screeching halt, just feet from the door. Everyone sat in silence for second, their minds catching up to the moment before Elizabeth erupted into giggles from the backseat. 

The two turned in surprise and confusion as the girl continued to laugh. William said, looking at his son out the corner of his eyes "Well, Mike...I think that's enough driving for today."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dana pulled out the next cassette, clicking it into the VHS. So far, she had speed-watched nearly four days worth of security footage from Freddy's, though nothing turned up. She couldn't imagine why Allan never would have had the cameras on during the daytime...if he did, the police likely would have found out what happened to those kids.

She sighed, tired as she sat back in her chair, upping the speed on the TV. The cameras began at 11:00 PM, the Tuesday after the disappearances. Her eyelids began to droop as she leaned her head on her fist...until it slipped and she whacked her chin on the chair arm. "Ow..." she groaned, rubbing it as pain subsided in her jaw. But she was lucky she didn't sleep.

As she re-focused her attention on the footage, a figure appeared in the dining room. Dana's eyes widened attentively and she scooted forward. It came into full view. "What _is_ that?" She asked herself. Lean and thin with exaggerated features, a black humanoid thing neared the stage, stopping in front of it.

It took her a moment to realize it wasn't touching the ground. "What on Earth?" She said to herself, profusely confused. Only part of it was facing her, so she couldn't see much of its front. Dana rewound the tape back to when the figure showed up. To her surprise, it didn't come from any door or hallway...it just simply...appeared. Like it had walked right into existence. She watched it over and over again, mouth agape. 

"What is going on?" She asked herself, her mind not wrapping around what she was seeing. It was bizarre and she felt herself become slightly infuriated at its inexplicableness. That's when the memory of her first nightshift came to her head.

_"I'm actually into paranormal stuff, uh...thought these creepy robots might...you know..." Dave mumbled sheepishly._

_"What, you think they're haunted or something?" Dana had chuckled. Dave shrugged with a look that said 'maybe'.  
_

Dana's eyebrows narrowed. Whatever was happening here-related to the disappearances or not-was not...normal. She gazed at the static-ridden screen, trying to identify the figure. Maybe Dave was onto something with his suspicions.

She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed a number copied from a paper she held.

...

...

...

"Hello?"

"Henry, it's Dana."

"Oh-hello, Dana. Is everything alright?" The man asked, detecting the drop of pitch in her voice. "Yeah...I think I found something. Could you come take a look?" She questioned, looking at the clock. It was quite late. She was surprised he had picked up the phone in the first place.

"Of course. Where are you?"

"Freddy's-the old one."

"I'm on my way."


	16. I'm still here...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Tell Me Father by MiatriSs!

Henry watched as Dana rewound the tape back to when the figure appeared. "It's just this...thing," she said, hitting play as she stepped back. "I don't know what it is." The man next to her leaned closer to the screen, gazing at it intently as the shape emerged. He hit rewind and watched it again, this time pausing it when a glimmer of moonlight hit its side. Dana moved in with him, trying to see if there was something he saw that she didn't.

She looked at him and saw a pained expression on his face. "Henry?" She questioned, glancing at the screen, then back to him. "That's..." he started, tenseness building in his mien. "That's an animatronic," he said, not taking his eyes from the image. Dana looked at the TV, confused. "Are you sure? It doesn't really look like one..." she said hesitantly. It was true. It shared no features like with of the robots from either location. Whereas they were big and bulky with vibrant colors, this thing was slender and black, it's only other color a creamy white in the stripes lining its limbs.

"I'm sure," he said firmly. "How do you know?" Dana asked. Henry hesitated, considering his answer. "Because I made it," he responded flatly. She looked at him, bewildered. "What are you talking about?" 

"I should have told you. I'm Henry Emily, one of the co-founders of Fazbear Entertainment," he said regretfully. "And that," he said, pointing at the screen. "Is one of my machines."

Dana looked back at the paused TV, letting her eyes focus on the figure. "What's it doing here?" She questioned apprehensively. Henry exhaled, almost tiredly before he answered. "I don't know," he said simply. "What concerns me most is that it's my...security puppet." Dana looked back at him, an eyebrow raised. "What's a security puppet?"

"It's something I designed to keep an eye on my daughter at my restaurant. To protect her. I..." he started, his eyes glistening as he swallowed. "It couldn't save her."

Dana's shoulders slumped as her mind put the pieces together. "Your daughter..." she started softly. "Is dead." Henry finished monotonously. "And you think whoever...hurt her...is responsible for what happened here. That's why you're here," she said quietly. He nodded. 

"So...if the puppet is here, what does that mean?" She asked. Henry didn't reply for a moment. "I don't know." He whispered. Dana examined the screen and pointed. "You didn't design your puppet to _float_ , did you?" She questioned. The man peered at the TV, apparently only now noticing that detail as he shook his head. Dana's eyes moved to him. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

He shook his head again. "No...not really. But now I'm having second thoughts." His expression tightened as he put a hand on the glass, one finger delicately touching the puppet. Henry sighed, looking at her before he turned his gaze back to the TV. 

He pressed play, this time slowing the recording. Dana watched in anticipation as the tape went beyond what she had thus seen. So far, the puppet stayed near the stage, facing the de-activated robots on it, its gaze passing between them. Every now and then, she swore she could see a light in the animatronics' eyes. Just a reflection, she thought as the recording continued. This went on for another few minutes as they watched in silence before the puppet turned towards the door. 

Henry paused it abruptly, freezing the animatronic in place. They now got a full view of its face...it was simple, with a creamy-white front and red circles on its cheeks. Its scarlet lips were turned upward in a half-smile while its black eyes remained open with a single white light to act as pupils. But the tears...

"I didn't do those," Henry said, pointing at the purple tracks running down its face. "Are you thinking...what I'm thinking?" Dana asked hesitantly. The man's jaw clenched and he didn't answer for a moment, as if considering his response. "That my daughter-" he began, letting out a shaky, unstable breath. "That my daughter is _haunting_ that thing?"

Dana shrugged uncomfortably. "I mean, I'm kind of a paranormal buff...everything we've seen, and everything you told me definitely points to a haunting." Henry nodded resolutely. "Well, there's something else," he said quietly. 

"The man who...took her away from me...was someone she knew well. Someone that I trusted deeply. I never thought-" he said, a tremble in his voice. He put a hand over his eyes and let out a long exhale. "He was my partner. Practically a brother to me...he was there from the start, from the beginning. He did all he could to get this franchise on its feet. I couldn't have done it without him."

Dana waited patiently as he paused, listening intently. "What was his name?" She asked softly. Henry swallowed and she saw a look of deepest loathing and fury flash in his eyes as his demeanor changed. "William Afton," he snarled. 

"You haven't reported him...have you?" She questioned, confirming her suspicions. He shook his head. "There isn't enough evidence to incriminate him. Believe me, I've collected as much as I could, but I need the final nail in the coffin, that last piece that will get him a death sentence. I won't stop until I do," he said with a sudden determination and finality as if she would try to argue otherwise.

"I'm with you," Dana said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked at her and nodded in thankfulness, standing from his seat. "I need to find her-the puppet, my daughter." Dana got to her feet, glancing at the screen. "And what do I do in the meantime?" She asked.

"Keep your eyes out. If Afton's responsible for the disappearances here-and I know he is-then he might strike again," Henry responded, taking his hat from the office desk and placing it neatly on his head. "If you find any more tapes with this sort of activity, or if you find the marionette, call me," he said as he headed for the exit. He paused in the room's doorway, turning his head to face her. "I don't suppose you own a gun?" He asked.

Dana shook her head. "No...but I've got a switchblade," she added. Henry nodded. "Keep it on you." Then he left, disappearing down the dark hallway and out of the building. 

Turning back to the TV, she pressed "play" and continued observing the tapes, considering the pocket-knife she kept in her sock drawer at home. She sincerely hoped she wouldn't have to use it.


	17. i'm claustrophobic, you know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Break My Mind by DAGames!

Dark.

It was very dark.

But Charlie was used to that now, wasn't she?

Darkness. Suffocating black.

She couldn't free herself from it...

She was still in the box, she knew. But something was playing for her, a light, melodic tune that kept her foggy-headed and placated. It was like an overwhelming wave of exhaustion, though she couldn't sleep. All she could do was think to pass the time until she could muster the strength to free herself. Unfortunately for her, the only thoughts that came to her were of...

Him.

...

 _Charlie giggled, tugging the string of the balloon the prize counter gave her, causing the bubble to bounce with a waver. She pulled again, except this time it left her grasp, floating up and out of her reach. A frown crossed her face, but she didn't cry. S_ _he didn't like to cry like so many of the other five-year olds she knew did._ _It didn't matter that much anyway._

_She turned in the empty party room she stood in, just now realizing how quiet the restaurant was. Sure, most of the parties were wrapping up, but where was everyone? Charlie bit her lip in nervousness, stepping out into the dim hallway. "Daddy?" She called quietly, shyly refraining from raising her voice. A shuffle from the darker end of the corridor made her head turn._

_Charlie waited as fear spread through her, not able to see through the blackness. Muffled steps echoed, coming closer, causing her to walk back just a little. Then, a golden rabbit emerged into the light, one hand adjusting his violet bow-tie._

_"Charlie!" He said happily in greeting. The girl smiled widely, relieved as she extended her hands. The rabbit moved forward, scooping her up into his arms to hold her comfortably at his level. "What are you doing here all by yourself?" He said jestingly, booping her nose. She giggled a little before putting a small hand on the upper jaw of the suit, trying to raise it up._

_The man chuckled, grasping her fingers gently. "Hey, hey, if you wanted to see, you could have just asked," he joked, lifting up the top of the mask for her to get a look. "It's just your Uncle Will, silly," he smiled, showing his face behind the suit as the girl grinned, lifting her hand to close the jaw. "I think your father's looking for you," he added, carrying her towards the dining room as he flipped the mask back down._

_Charlie blinked as the man took her through to the other side of the building, the bright lights above stinging her eyes a little. She grinned widely when they came in view of a man wearing a Golden Freddy suit with the mask removed. He turned at their entrance with a smile as they approached. "There you are sweetie! Where were you?" He said, taking her from the rabbit's arms._

_The girl pointed back from where they had come as her mother stepped out of Henry's office. Eleanor leaned her head forward and gave Charlie an eskimo kiss with a light giggle. "Silly," she said, tickling the child's neck lightly. "Where is Chris?" The girl asked, trying to shrug away the sensation with a reluctant smile._

_"He went home with his mama," William answered, hands on his waist. "Speaking of which..." he added, glancing at the clock in Henry's office, squinting through his mask. "I better get going too-or Clara's gonna kick me out and I'll get the couch again," he joked. Henry nodded vigorously, adjusting his hold on Charlie. "Oh, I know what that's like-oof!" He groaned in mock pain as Eleanor elbowed him playfully._

_"It's late, and this little bug-a-boo needs sleep," the woman added, nodding her head towards the exit. Henry nodded in agreement, leaning into his office to turn off the building lights. The four walked through the darkened dining room and into the parking lot with William making sure to lock the doors behind them._

_As Henry unlocked the car, he hoisted Charlie on his waist and waved at his partner who was walking to the vehicle parked just a few stalls from theirs. "Say goodbye, Charlotte," Eleanor said, preparing her carseat. The girl waved with a sheepish grin. "Bye Uncle Will," she said as her father adjusted one of her hair bows. The man waved back, and she could tell he was smiling through his mask. "Good night, Charlie!" He called._

_..._

_..._

_When did it all go wrong?_

_..._

It was just two years after that when they stopped seeing the Aftons altogether. Everything was fine up until Chris' incident...that was when Henry explained that they wouldn't be seeing them much anymore. She could never get him to tell her why. But, he must have known something was wrong. That's why she always had to wear that bracelet, the one that matched the puppet's. That was why she wasn't ever allowed at Freddy's by herself...

But she never thought _William_ of all people would be the one her father was protecting her from. _William,_ who was almost as close to her as her own parents, _William_ who was like a secondary protector and guardian, _William_ who added all that extra magic to Freddy's. 

She trusted him. 

But when she saw him that night, reflected in the cold glass amidst the pouring rain as he held that knife firmly pushed through her, she knew something inside him had changed. His eyes no longer held that cheerful glow. They were flat and dead with a coldness that rivaled the freezing chill around her. The energetic glow was replaced by a menacing sliver of corrupted darkness. The William she knew was gone.

...

Charlie sighed to herself as she hung in the blackness of her box. What was she doing? Was anything that was happening now...right? Was her revenge rightfully obtained?

It would be. 

She looked at herself and felt tears stinging her eyes. William wasn't the only one not himself anymore. Charlie-Charlotte-was changed. Instead of the child form she was so accustomed to, she was trapped with these spider-like limbs and the tortuously synonymic patterns that adorned them. As she gazed at them, she flexed her hands. All she saw were claws. She was a monster now...all the haunted machines were. All created in the twisted pain and agony wrought by William Afton.

Charlie growled, baring her teeth. That wretched demon would pay for all this eventually. Her anger began to leave her as she unwillingly began to slip back into sleep, the music box ticking like a mad clock around her.

As she fell further and further into darkness, a sudden panic seized her.

 _"William..."_ she murmured, fighting to stay conscious.

He was going to strike again-and soon.


	18. Your Fairy Godfather Rabbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Dead But Not Buried by TryHardNinja!

The new animatronics were big, no doubt about that. Foxy was the shortest, though he was still taller than Michael was, standing at nearly six feet. The boy looked at them in awe and wonder as they stood frozen in their poses on stage-Freddy with his hand puppet and microphone raised, Foxy with a paw in mid-wave, and Ballora standing elegantly with her arms raised in crescent-curves over her head. 

The fourth one-Baby-was not present. William had told them that she "wasn't ready yet" and was still sitting idle in his workshop. Until then, Circus Baby's Pizza World was set to open in less than a week.

Michael watched as Clara helped Elizabeth onto a carousel ride near the arcade patio while William hung up another banner. For nearly a month, he'd been coming on Saturdays to help his father set up the building, and he had to say, he was quite proud of the work they accomplished. After countless hours of lining carpet, applying new wallpaper, and bringing in all the party accessories, the place was practically ready to go.

The teen turned his gaze back to the robots. Foxy and Freddy were recognizable from the other locations he'd been to, but Ballora and Baby were entirely new and original. Clara had helped design the ballerina and it showed through its dancer-like features and the purple aesthetic-her favorite color. Though, Michael didn't know why it had to be so tall. He also didn't know why they were all plastic and metal now...he thought the fuzz-design from Freddy's was more friendly.

As the boy looked at the animatronics, he didn't realize his father was coming up to stand with him. Michael jumped as William clapped him on the back, and he immediately tried to hide his being startled, though the man didn't seem to notice-either that or he didn't care to show it. 

"Well, Mike," he said, keeping one hand on the boy's shoulder while he put the other at his own waist. "Job well done, huh?" He said, looking at the robots with pride. "Yeah..." the teen said, glancing around the room decorated for the grand opening. "It looks great."

"Sure does," the man remarked, looking at his son out the corner of his eye with a small smile. "Good work, kiddo." Michael felt his lips curve upward into a light grin at the praise. The two looked over as Clara approached them, giving Elizabeth a piggy-back ride. "It's wonderful, darling," she said, coming to stand by her husband. "I'm glad you think so," he responded, looking at his watch as he put an arm around her. 

"You better get going or you'll be late," the woman said, turning her head to a large clock near the stage. Michael looked at his father, confused. "Are you going somewhere?" He asked. "Just a meeting with some franchisee owners. I'll be back sometime tonight." William replied. "Alright..." the teen responded quietly as Clara ushered them outside and to the car.

As they drove home, Michael absentmindedly played thumb-war with Elizabeth until their father dropped them all off and pulled out of the driveway to head to his meeting. The boy watched thoughtfully as the man left, not responding to his mother's calls to come inside until the car was out of sight. Something just didn't seem right...all these 'meetings'...

Michael shook his head as he turned to the porch. It was all in his head. He was making himself concerned over nothing.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

William flexed his fingers on the wheel as he turned into one of the back alleyways behind Freddy's. He slowed to a stop behind some dumpsters and stepped out, rounding back to the trunk. As soon as it popped open, that familiar rabbit suit looked back at him in pieces, and he picked each part up with care and slipped them on. 

William turned to the restaurant's back exit and unlocked the door with the key he still kept. It was later in the day and the last of the pizzeria's parties would soon be coming to an end...perfect for what he needed to do. The man stepped inside and slipped into a darkened party room on his right and waited.

For twenty minutes he stayed hidden in the shadows as children ran past the doorway in the halls, too preoccupied with their fun to take any notice or curiosity in the mysterious rooms around them. That was, until one child lagged behind his friends. He watched as the boy paused outside the party room, catching his breath, ready to hurry back to the others before William stepped forward, barely enough for the hall-light to illuminate him.

"Oh, Cassidy," he called softly. The child stopped and his mouth fell agape as he turned and saw the man shrouded in the shadows of the party room. "B-Bonnie?" He asked, confused. William cocked his head to his shoulder and gave a little wave, smiling widely. "What are you doing in there?" The boy asked, seemingly unafraid now. "Waiting for you, of course!" The man answered, keeping his voice low and quiet.

"Waiting...for me?" Cassidy questioned, pointing one finger at himself. "Why, yes..." William replied. "I've heard you've been missing my shows." The child nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. They said you weren't going to do stuff anymore," he said, a trace of sadness in his tone. "Wait, how do you know my name?"

"I know about many of the children at my restaurant, Cassidy. Especially my favorites," the man answered, one hand adjusting his bowtie as he leaned closer to the boy's level. Cassidy couldn't hide the grin growing on his face, and his eyes lit up hopefully. "Am I one of them?" He inquired quietly, almost shyly. "I'd be a liar if I said otherwise," William replied as one of his rabbit ears bobbed downwards.

Cassidy was bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Are you going to start doing shows again?" He asked, hands clutched at his chest. The man sighed, shaking his head. "Not like I used to," he responded simply, resignation in his tone. The child's shoulders slumped as he looked, crestfallen, at the ground. William smiled furtively, though the boy didn't see it as his gaze remained downwards. He put a finger under Cassidy's chin and lifted his head up to look at him. 

"But, hey...why don't you come tomorrow night for a special performance? Just you and me," the man said, placing his hands on his knees to steady himself as he leaned closer. "Really?" The boy asked, somewhat skeptical. "Can you do that?"

William turned his head slightly, keeping his eyes on the child in front of him as a smile grew behind the mask. "It's my restaurant, isn't it? We can have our own little party here, just us." Cassidy regained that joyful glint in his gaze as he looked happily back at the man in front of him. "Please, I'd love that!" He said, adoration present in his mien. 

William straightened, causing the rabbit ears to flop again with his movement as he stood, though he never took his eyes from the child. "Come when everyone has left. The door here will be unlocked for you," he said, gesturing to the exit down the hall. "Can you manage that?"

Cassidy nodded vigorously, causing his black curly hair to bounce as he nearly quaked with excitement. "Oh-and don't tell anyone you're coming...we don't want our little party to be spoiled, now, do we?" William added, looking at him with a questioning gaze. "Don't worry, I won't," the boy replied hurriedly. "Promise you'll be here?" He asked. "I promise. Only for my favorite," the man answered with a smile. 

_"Cassidy!"_ A woman called from down the hall. The boy turned his head towards the sound before glancing back at the rabbit. "Go on-I'll see you tomorrow," William ushered gently, motioning for him to go. The kid smiled before turning to hurry back towards the dining room.

William watched him go, remaining in the darker parts of the corridor as he slipped back out into the alleyway. Tomorrow would be an eventful day indeed.


	19. The Monsters You Create

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya! Thanks for reading. If you're enjoying this work, then check out this story from my good friend, blue87-another re-telling of FNaF with an OC!
> 
> Forgotten: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448253/chapters/64440706
> 
> FNAF Song of the Day: I Got No Time (FNAF 4 Song) by The Living Tombstone!

"Find anything yet?" Henry asked, looking over the desk at Dana as he continued flipping through employee papers. She sighed, stretching her arms. "Ditto. You?" The man shrugged, pulling another sheet from the file cabinet. "Not really. Still can't find anything on that partner of yours or that new gal Allan hired last week...what was her name?"

"Wendy," she responded, picking up her soda. "Right," Henry nodded, turning his eyes to the clock behind the desk. "I'll need to go soon," he added. Dana craned her head around. 5:38 AM. "Uh huh," she acknowledged, twisting back as she picked up the small music box near the security TV. She took the handle and started turning it back, listening to the gentle ticks from within it as it rewound. 

Henry paused and peered at the box as she set it back on the table. "What do you do that for?" He asked with an eyebrow raised. "It's supposed to pacify an animatronic in the party box up front...or something. I dunno, really," she replied, clicking through the cameras again. "I didn't know there was one in there," the man remarked. Dana shrugged. "I've never seen it to be honest. All I know is that it's one of the new ones-salvaged or whatever."

Silence passed between them for a few minutes as they continued to work and research. As Dana played more security tapes from Freddy's, a thought occurred to her. "I think I'm gonna stay a little longer or maybe come back later or something. I wanna see what's in that box." She stated, glancing at the cameras.

Henry shrugged, straightening the papers he held as he placed them back in their folder. "Whatever you want to do. Let me know if you find anything interesting," he said, standing as he set the files on the desk. "Anyway, I better go before the day-guard shows. Good day," he added. Dana waved as he disappeared into the dark hall. She listened his footsteps and the front door opening and closing. She glanced at the clock. 

5:56 AM

She cupped her face in her hands, gently ticking the music box handle backward. "Wonder what's in there..."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

_7:08 that evening..._

William waited patiently in the left-wing party hall, occasionally glancing back at door, though he wasn't able to see much through its window. It was too dark for that anyway. He tapped a mascoted foot on the ground as he sat on the folding chair he had retrieved from a supply closet, anticipation growing inside him.

Tonight was going to be different...this wasn't for the sake of science or research, no...part of William didn't want to admit it, but what was going to happen was purely to satisfy his bloodlust. He'd been craving it, that feeling of power, the sound of children's screams, the scene of carnage that would ensue.

He inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breath. What would Clara think about this...? 

No, he thought, shaking his head firmly. He wouldn't allow himself to think about that. William sighed again, adjusting the cuff on his sleeve when the sound of a light knock made him pause. He held very still as he turned his head to the door that had opened just a crack. 

A curly black-haired head peeked in shyly. "Hello?" He called in almost a whisper. "Here, Cassidy," William spoke softly, standing from his chair. The boy leaned further inside and peered around the doorframe, catching sight of who he thought to be Bonnie. He smiled and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "You ready, kiddo?" William asked, tucking his hands behind his back as he leaned downwards. "You bet!" Cassidy grinned, hurrying to stand in front of the man.

"Right this way!" William said with a flourish, one arm extended to the party room they had met in the day before. The boy walked in, eyes wide with excitement as the man followed behind him. Cassidy looked around, walking further to the back as he examined the shelves stocked with party hats and un-blown balloons, not noticing that William had locked the door behind them.

"I don't suppose you've told anyone about our little excursion, now have you?" He asked as the boy kept his gaze at the wall behind him, still facing the door as he adjusted one of his cuffs. "Nuh-uh," the child replied. William turned his head to his shoulder, eyeing his guest. Cassidy finally turned around as the man began to remove the separate parts of the suit with care. 

"W...What are you doing?" The boy asked, confused. William pulled his arm from the sleeve and proceeded to the next, exposing his purple uniform. "You wanted a private performance, didn't you?" The man replied. "Y-Yeah..." Cassidy answered, panic lacing his voice. "Well," William began, pulling out of the rest of the suit. Only the mask remained. "Here it is...a _performance_ unlike any other. This, Cassidy, is just for you."

The boy's eyes widened in fear as the man carefully lifted the bonnie head from his own, holding it above himself as a sinister smile began to creep onto his face. The child backed up subconsciously, bumping into the shelves behind him as William gently set the mask on the table beside him. It was then that Cassidy noticed the long blade sitting next to it, gleaming brightly under the white lights above them. His heart jumped as the man grasped it and turned to face him.

"So, tell me," William said, approaching the boy. "Is this the show you were looking for?" Cassidy tried to dart away, but the man's hand caught the back of his shirt roughly, pulling him back and to the ground painfully. "Let go of me!" The child yelped as William kept him on the ground, keeping a firm hand on his chest as he toyed with the knife. 

"Oh, but my dear child...is this not what you wanted?" He said in mock concern as he set the tip of his blade at the boy's collarbone, suddenly drawing it down over his torso. Cassidy screamed in pain as a line of blood slowly seeped out and stained his shirt. It wasn't deep, not really, but the man wanted to make this experience different...he'd start slow.

"No, no, augh!" The child yelled hysterically, clutching his wound as his hands grew red, tears now running down his face. "Oh, I see..." William said, standing. He set the knife back on the table and eyed the room, spotting a discarded wrench on one of the shelves. He stepped over the boy and retrieved it, returning back to where he lay. "Well, let me make this better...perhaps you'll prefer this."

Cassidy blinked through the tears, trying to see what the man held before his eyes widened as the wrench was brought down with swift force into his shoulder. He yelled again as pain radiated from muscle and bone, bruises already beginning to form. He barely had time to react before another blow swung upwards under his chin, causing his head to whip back onto the tile with a crack. A moan escaped his lips as he heard the man taping the wrench on the table in a rhythmic beat.

"Well, Cassidy, you have to tell me...which do you like more? Because I really can't tell." William said, cocking his head to look at him. He tried to speak, but instead took the moment to catch his breath. Wrong choice. "I suppose it's this, then," he heard, before he was struck violently in the chest. This one was worse than the others, and he couldn't choke out a scream for help, too distracted by the growing pain. 

Another blow in the same place caused him to finally yell, but he was cut off as yet another strike hit him. The last one caused something inside him to break with a crack and his chest burst with agony. Cassidy tried to muster a yell of some sort, but found he could not. William kicked him roughly, sending him rolling back towards the other wall. 

The boy turned to his side, putting his weight on his elbows and knees as he tried to crawl towards the door, biting his lip to try to hide a growing sob with enough force to bleed. His legs gave out underneath him and he fell back to the ground with a pained groan. He used his arms to pull himself forward, dragging his feet behind him, every movement increasingly excruciating as he moved. William walked towards him slowly, his dress shoes clicking quietly on the floor as he approached, pacing himself as he watched the child struggle to escape.

"Oh dear, are you not liking our little show?" He said walking to the boy's side, crouching beside him. Cassidy opened his mouth, trying to speak, but all that came out were raspy moans, like someone had dragged his vocal cords across cinder blocks. William leaned in next to his face with eyebrows raised. "What was that, Cassidy? I didn't quite catch that," he asked in mock concern. All the boy could get out were painful gasps, collapsing onto the tile from exhaustion.

"Mmm," William nodded, grasping the back of the boy's neck, lifting his head up. "I think you've got a collapsed _lung_ there, kiddo," he said, leaning close to his ear. "Painful, I'm sure," he murmured with a small smile, grasping his shoulder to turn him onto his back. The man stood, dropping the wrench at his feet as he turned back to the table. 

Cassidy closed his eyes in pain, trying to think of something, _anything_ else to pull him away from what was happening...only to open them to see William standing over him, shrouded in shadow as he again held the knife. "Let's try this again," the man said, lifting the boy by the collar of his shirt. Cassidy felt himself get raised higher before being shoved to the wall forcefully, an arm pressing against his chest to keep him there.

"Hmm..." William hummed, looking at the boy as he raised the blade to his cheek, dragging it gently downwards, allowing blood to bubble from it. "Someone's looking tired..." he said, leaning in close. Cassidy could feel his breath on his face. "Do you want to go to sleep, kid?" He asked gently.

The boy coughed as tears streamed down his face, his eyes shut tight as his lip trembled. "S-S...to...p," he rasped, trying to pry the man's arm from his chest. William leaned in, turning his ear towards him, resting the knife on the wall inches from Cassidy's head. "A little _louder,_ won't you?" He emphasized with fake care. A dry sob escaped him, blood slowly inching down his chin from his lip. _"W-Wh...y...?"_ He pleaded as he shook.

The man hesitated in his answer. "Because..." he murmured, putting the tip of the knife at the boy's uninjured shoulder. "I _can_ ," he said, pushing it in lightly. Cassidy began to weep as it broke his skin, and he tried desperately to kick at him, though the man seemed unaffected by his efforts. "This is my power, _my_ strength... _I_ am in control," he continued, withdrawing the blade.

Though it only came out in gasping wheezes, Cassidy sobbed, falling limp on the man's arm as he clutched his abdomen. _"Dad...Mom, please, somebody,"_ he thought to himself miserably, despite there not being sliver of hope inside him. His eyes were shut tight; he didn't want to look at the monster holding him. He hung there for a few moments, crying, neither person doing anything.

Cassidy shuddered as he felt William's breath, hot against his ear. "Do you want to go to sleep, now?" The man whispered gently. The boy opened his eyes, staring at the purple cuff of the arm pressed against him. After a moment's hesitation, he slumped completely, with every ounce of hope leaving him, feeling his face fall from expression. "Hope you enjoyed the show," William murmured, finally driving the knife into the boy's torso.

Cassidy grit his teeth at the pain as his vision gradually darkened...and left him entirely.

...

William gazed at the boy, limp as a ragdoll at the wall. He set the knife at his belt and gently let the child fall into his arms, carrying him carefully towards the door and into the hall. He went out the exit and to the car, setting Cassidy into the trunk before rounding around to the driver's seat.

He drove a for a few minutes, passing darkened buildings and dim street-lights to a tidy alleyway where he stopped. William retrieved the boy's body and set it carefully near a dumpster...it would be found by morning. The police station was close-by. The man went back to his car and climbed in, taking one last glance at the child, who's feet were visible around the garbage cans.

"It's been fun."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No...

No, he wouldn't-

He couldn't...

He wasn't going to get away with this.

...

Cassidy felt a feeling of airy-ness inside him as his pain vanished. He knew what had happened, he knew he was dead. But he felt caught, like something was trying to push him one way, but his will wouldn't let it. No.

That impostor couldn't escape without punishment, he wouldn't let it happen. Cassidy felt angry, now searching for something...what? What was he looking for?

Something...something to control, something to give him power. But what?

A form. He needed to inhabit a form. Where to find one, though, where? He felt his consciousness searching, crawling blindly for some shell, some empty body to possess, unimaginable fury growing within. He moved further through darkness-when a sudden warmth appeared around him. Cassidy moved faster, hurrying through matter and black shadows, until finally, he caught hold of something. A body.

It wasn't like himself, or at least, not like what he was. He didn't have many senses other than a weak grasp on the thing's limbs, but...something was strange. Something wasn't normal. 

Someone else was here.

A young boy's voice called out.

"Hello?"


	20. Don't do drugs, kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Count the Ways by Dawko and DHeusta!

It was bright, no doubt about that, none at all. Pretty, too, though not all would agree had they known what it was and where it came from...how it came to be harvested. William gently shook the flask, watching its contents tip from side to side slowly before setting it back with the others.

Remnant, he decided to call it. Poetically named after the remaining drips and strings of life left behind from the victims of his machines. The remnant of what allowed their souls to persist in mortality. It was beautiful.

Circus Baby's Pizza World had only been open a few days, and yet here he was, experimenting with the lovely results that came from it. He certainly hadn't expected such quick successes. But now that Funtime Freddy and Foxy had served their purposes, he'd be deactivating their hunting mode unless he needed more of their...services...in the future. 

The metal itself was easy to take, just the inner parts of the endo-skeleton needed to be removed along with...the bodies. Each machine only held one. And so William earned the repulsive task of disposing them. That too was easy.

Once all that was taken care of, all he had to do was extract the very core of the endo-skeletons and melt them down into a malleable metal. After he re-worked it a bit with various chemicals (and a set-up that made his workshop look like a science project), he got what he was looking for.

Remnant.

It glowed beautifully...the very source of life, the very thing that could maybe bring his son back. It wasn't anything like what he expected...a soft blue light came from it, a glow that reminded William of the jellyfish he and his family saw at the aquarium a few years ago. And its consistency was entirely different from what he imagined. Like jell-o or slime, it flowed through its glass containers thickly, brilliant lines twisting inside it like marble.

Just...beautiful.

William sighed in concentration as he leaned on the table with gloved hands, thinking about how to go about experimenting with the stuff. He certainly wasn't going to try it with Chris anytime soon, not until he knew it was safe to use. And while he wouldn't mind giving it to some kid from his restaurant, he felt keeping a live hostage was too risky, at least right now.

The man's jaw twitched as he racked his mind for ideas. There was always...himself. That too, had its risks, but if all else went wrong, he'd only have himself to take care of. And _that,_ he could do. Had he not been an entrepreneur, he easily could have been a doctor. The science of medicine was something he excelled in...and he'd seen more than his fair share of up-close trauma injuries.

William sighed again, fingers tapping anxiously on the table as he made his decision. He straightened, moving to one of the many drawers at the wall, eyes scanning them before settling on one up higher near the ceiling. He pulled it open and glanced inside before pulling out a box of cotton-swabs, a small bottle of antiseptic, disinfectant wipes, and a syringe.

William went back to the table and set the items down in one of the few remaining spaces before moving aside the amount of junk that had piled on it the last few days. Once he had a decent area cleared, he wiped the metal surface and placed a sheet of tissue paper on top.

He pulled on a new pair of gloves, discarding the old ones as he pulled the cap off the syringe. He dipped the tip of it into one of the glowing flasks in front of him and sucked its contents until the thing was nearly full. "50 milliliters," he murmured under his breath, making a note on the journal next to him. 

He set the syringe down on the tissue paper as he unbuttoned the left cuff of his dress-shirt and rolled it up just past his elbow. William took one of the cotton swabs from its box and uncapped the antiseptic, placing the swab at its mouth as he swiftly tipped the bottle enough to soak it. Once over, he ran the cotton up and down his arms, then over his hands, thoroughly wiping every finger and nail, trying to be as clean as possible.

William discarded the used swab as he prodded his wrist with his other hand, looking for a good vein. Just below his palm was what he was looking for. He kept the place in his head as he turned to pick up the syringe, holding it firmly in his grasp.

As he held the needle over his arm, he felt his heart-beat quicken with fear. He had no idea what he was doing...or rather, what this was _going_ to do to him. Mutate his skin as it bubbled under the surface like water in a hot pot? Or suck his veins dry, crumpling his arm like a drying sponge? Would it kill him in an instant? Or would it do nothing at all and simply leave him in a dead end?

The man clenched his jaw as he fixed his gaze on the syringe. These were selfish thoughts, more cowardly than anything. He wasn't going to stop in his efforts to save his son, and he certainly wasn't going to let these childish fears halt him in what had already proved to be a successful endeavor. 

William grit his teeth, feeling all anxious hesitations leave him as a flare of determination lit inside him. Gently, he directed the tip of the needle to the most prominent vein, letting it break his skin as he pushed it inwards. Then, his thumb pressed down on the plunger, driving the remnant into his body.

The man gasped as it entered. It was hot, then suddenly cold, constantly switching, but always burning intensely. He pushed deeper, clenching his jaw from the pain as he watched the substance empty from the syringe and disappear into his arm. His veins, all of them on his forearm suddenly manifested as the glow from the remnant shone through, making his blood appear brilliant white and blue.

William's breathing deepened as he wrenched the needle from his wrist, letting it fall to the table as he clutched his arm in pain. He backed to the wall and slid down it until he sat with his knees bent, all the while gazing at the remnant as it continued through his veins and up past his shirt, flowing freely.

In seconds, he felt his heart beat suddenly with much more force. William gasped as an intense feeling of excessive energy, and...vigor...flowed through him. He breathed hard as a twitch of a smile grew on his face. He felt so... _alive._ He felt like he could do anything.

He watched as the glow in his arm slowed faded until it was completely gone. For a few minutes, he waited for any other reaction, but got nothing. Slowly, he got to his feet, testing his balance before walking cautiously to the table. "Well," he said to himself with a smile, documenting his results in his journal. "I call that a success."


	21. Restlessness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Noticed by MandoPony!

Dana passed by the tables in the party room as she made her way to the prize corner. She'd been putting off doing this, partially because her schedule made her want to immediately go home after her shift and sleep until noon, and partially because she was afraid of what she would find. But nearly two weeks had passed and she was done waiting.

She glanced around the room, checking to make sure no other employees were around before pushing aside balloons to stand in front of the present box. She gently put her hands on its cool, woolen surface, pausing to hear the soft ticking of a music box playing next to it. Dana inhaled quietly before slipping her fingers into the lid slit, slowly prying it open.

It took her eyes a moment to identify what she was seeing inside, but when she did, she gasped, instinctively leaning away. This was it-the puppet. Dana could more clearly now see its synonymous designs and features, sitting in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the box. 

"It's you," she murmured, reaching a hand to touch it. She felt the cool porcelain face, gently easing it up into a sitting position. Its head fell down slightly, chin nearly resting on its chest as Dana considered what to do. She put a finger to her lip in thought. "I've got to call Henry," she said to herself, pushing away from the box. 

Before she could leave, a bright flash of light emitted from the corner. Dana whipped around, mouth falling agape. The puppet's eyes now each held a single white light like a pupil. "What the-" Dana faltered, cautiously approaching the animatronic. Suddenly, a raspy child's voice spoke. _"Henry?"_ It asked.

The woman turned around, scanning the room for who could have been speaking when the child continued. _"Henry?"_ It said again. Dana turned her gaze to the puppet's face, eyebrows furrowed. "Henry isn't here..." she uttered softly. "You're...you're his daughter, aren't you?" She asked cautiously. The voice spoke, and she realized it was the animatronic itself communicating with her, eyes flashing with every syllable. _"Where is my daddy?"_ She asked in scratchy tone. 

"I don't know," Dana responded, mind racing. This was much more intense than the ouija boards ever were. "What's your name?" She questioned, putting her hands on the lip of the box. _"C-Charlie,"_ it responded, a stutter like a glitch in her response. "Charlie, what...what happened to you?" Dana asked cautiously. A static buzz filled the air, growing in intensity as the puppet twitched. _"He killed me and took my soul,"_ she whispered with a hint of remorse and anger.

"Who killed you?" The woman persisted, unconsciously leaning closer. _"Afton,"_ Charlie said. Dana nodded, knowing that Henry's suspicions were confirmed. "Charlie, do you know about the children who went missing at Freddy's?" She continued. The girl hesitated. _"He took them too."_

Dana swallowed hard, about to ask another question when a man's voice from across the room made her jump and whip around. "Hey! What are you doing here?" He called. Dana immediately stood, recognizing the man as the early dayshift worker, here to begin setting up for the parties later that day. "I-I just left my keys," she stuttered with a forced chuckle, holding them up for him to see. The man shrugged, moving to the breakroom to clock in.

Dana watched him leave, a plastered smile on her face until he was out of view. She hurriedly turned back to the puppet, but was meant with an empty box, no animatronics in sight. "Crap," she muttered. "Well..." she murmured. "I've gotta give Henry a call."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Daddy? Why won't you let me play with her?" Elizabeth asked, holding her arms away from her body as William helped zip up her snow-coat. "Because she isn't ready, sweetheart, we've gone over this. Hurry outside, Michael's waiting for you," he said, ushering her to the front door where the boy was standing holding a wooden sled. "Bye Dad," the girl said with a wave, clumsily walking down the porch steps. "Have fun," he called, closing the door carefully as to not upset the wreath on it. 

William turned back to the living room, gaze turning to Clara who was fast asleep on the couch. He crossed the space to her quietly, pulling a blanket from an armchair to drape over her. She barely stirred, curling into herself...William smiled softly, moving a stray strand of hair from her face before pressing a kiss to her temple. Then, he silently left the room.

He made his way to his office, closing the door behind him as he plopped down in the swivel-chair at his desk. He sighed, twisting in it slightly before letting his gaze fall on the rudimentary blue-prints he had made months ago for Circus Baby's. William pondered his creations for a few moments, mind lingering on Baby herself until his eyes moved to the scattered pieces machinery laying on the desk in front of him.

William moved some of the gears and bolts aside to reveal a series of small discs, some flashing, others not. He picked one up, twirling it in his fingers. They were quite ingenious pieces of technology and the man's personal pride...although Henry certainly had a lot to do with them. He was the one that proposed that sensory input could alter bits of reality and William was the one who actually put the idea to work.

That was before everything happened. Before Chris...

The main idea and purpose for the discs initially was to have them functioning while they weren't wearing the golden costumes; that way, the children could have the same sort of experience where the animatronics were fluid and somewhat sentient, not jerky and extremely robotic. Then, Michael somehow got a hold of them and used them to torment his brother for months on end...not that he understood the capacity the boy was tortured by. Not even a fraction.

William sighed again, swallowing as he toyed with the disc. Now, their purpose was to entice the guests at his restaurant. The young guests, anyway, or otherwise to keep an illusion for the parents that their children were with them when they left their parties and events. That way, they wouldn't realize until hours after they arrived back home that their kids were missing.

It was a precaution. William wanted as few connections to the disappearances as he could manage. The robots he designed were certainly doing their job, and doing it well, but...his desire to just carry the job out himself was growing. Cassidy's murder was satisfying, no doubt in that, but the man knew it'd be back. And if _that_ was the case, well...

He better start planning.

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

"My name is Chris...what's yours?"

"...Cassidy. I'm Cassidy. How did you get here?"

"I don't really know. I thought I was in the hospital, but now I'm not so sure. I thought I was dead."

"Me too-but I was never in a hospital."

"Oh. Where were you?"

"Fazbear's Diner."

"Oh yeah, my Dad works there. I never liked it, though."

"I don't like it anymore either."

"Anymore?"

"Not anymore."

"How come?"

"A man hurt me...

...I think I'm here to make sure he pays."

"Uh...alright, then. I'm just glad to have someone here with me. It was getting awful lonely. I'm sorry it had to happen with bad things, but I'm happy you're here."

"...ok. I'm glad you're here too, Chris."


	22. But be careful...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: We Want Out by DAGames!

"Henry, I'm not kidding you. She was _there,_ she _talked_ to me!" Dana insisted, trying to untangle herself from her kitchen phone-line. "And she told me Afton did it-he got her and the other missing kids!"

"Where _is_ she, then?" Henry responded anxiously on the other end. 

"Well, I-" Dana sighed with a groan, head cocked to the ceiling. "She escaped when I was distracted, I have no idea where she is now." 

Henry didn't respond for a moment. "You don't believe me, do you," Dana stated flatly. 

"I didn't say that. It's just a lot to take in," the man emphasized. "I was never one to believe in ghosts or anything similar, and all of this is really making me reconsider things." He sighed on the other end audibly.

"So...what now?" Dana asked hesitantly. 

"Well, first things first, I'm going to go search some of Charlotte's 'special spots' she used to like to play in. Maybe she'll have resorted to one of them for shelter or safety," Henry responded, voice going quieter as the sound of the phone being put down and a pen scribbling on paper echoed on the other end.

"What about me, then? What do you want me to do?" Dana questioned, biting her lip.

"I do have a task for you if you're up to it," the man replied hesitantly. 

"Shoot," she said, listening intently.

"I need someone to go to Afton's new restaurant. He started getting into some highly suspicious things before I found out about his plans, and I wouldn't be surprised if he's implemented them there. It would also be helpful if you could talk to his family...they used to spend time at our pizzerias. I don't think they know what's going on, but maybe they've observed some strange things at home," Henry spoke.

"I can do that," Dana said firmly. "Alright," Henry replied. "I need to give you some information about all this though-do you have a pen ready?"

"Uh-" the woman said, hurriedly scrambling to a drawer in her kitchen. She pushed aside some of the junk inside before pulling out a cheap pen and an old receipt. "Yeah," she responded, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder. "Hit it."

"Alright. The restaurant is called 'Circus Baby's Pizza World.' It's at 4583 Untertage Lane in Hurricane City, its hours are 10:30-9:00 on weekdays, 10:30-10:00 on weekends. I recommend going around noon, that's when the most parties are," Henry rattled off as Dana scribbled furiously on the receipt.

"The people I'd recommend talking to are Afton's wife, Clara, or his son, Michael. Clara's a taller blonde, and she usually wears skirts or dresses. She has a butterfly pendant that I've never seen her without, so that will be a dead giveaway. Michael is...fourteen, I think? Dark hair, used to wear a lot of tank-tops, but he'd turned to jackets by the time I left. Sticks around his sister, Elizabeth, who's also blonde," he continued. 

"Hold on," Dana muttered, hurriedly writing the details. She took another crumpled paper from the drawer and smoothed it out. "Okay. Anything else?" She asked.

"Yes. I advise you to disguise yourself a little. Not a lot, but enough to make your appearance somewhat unrecognizable."

"Uh..." Dana said hesitantly. "Why?"

"I'm worried about you running into Will-erm, I mean. Afton, I'm worried about Afton. He was there the day you were working, he could very well recognize you. He's a smart man, he'd be onto you in a second."

Dana felt a twinge of anxiousness churn inside her at that remark. This suddenly didn't sound so easy. "Anything else...?" She questioned nervously.

"I know for a fact that Afton won't be there Wednesday or Thursday this week-small business trip of some sort, one of my managers talked to me about it the other day. I recommend going then," he responded. 

The woman nodded. "You've got it, boss. What do you want me to investigate?"

"The robots themselves, primarily. If Clara or Michael know anything about them, that'd be good to know too."

"Got it."

"I think that's it. And, Dana?" Henry spoke, voice softer. 

"Yeah?"

"Thank you so much...for everything. It means more than you can imagine, to have someone helping me to avenge my daughter's death...and possibly that of others. It means so much."

Dana swallowed, not answering for a moment. "It's what anyone would do. It's what anyone _should_ do." She spoke with an edge in her voice.

"All the same, I'm ever grateful. Stay safe," he murmured.

"I will. Bye, Henry."

_Click_

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael sighed, mind deep in the comic he was reading. He tried to concentrate on the sculpted figures on their thin pages, eyes barely registering the words printed in the speech bubbles around them as the sound of Elizabeth and William arguing carried up from the living room.

""Daddy, you let the _other_ children go see her. Why won’t you let _me_ go?" The girl pleaded from downstairs. "I _don't_ let them see her, Lizabeth, she isn't ready yet. And you _certainly_ don't get to, not until I've made sure she's done." the man replied, exhaustion evident in his tone.

"Daddy, just once let me go play with her. She’s so pretty and shiny! Didn’t you make her just for me?" Elizabeth insisted, following her father up the stairs past Michael's bedroom. The man groaned audibly, and at this point, the teenager couldn't focus on the pages as the two continued their debate.

"No, you cannot go to her!" He said, opening a medicinal closet. Michael heard bandages being unwound as his sister continued. 

"Daddy… She can make _balloons!_ Have you _seen_ her make balloons?" She pressed, following him around the second floor. "How did you find out about that?" The man questioned sternly. 

"I read your plans in your office," the girl replied sheepishly. 

Michael could see his father pinching the bridge of his nose through the crack in his door, eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed. The boy winced as his sister continued, not reading the man's frustration. "Daddy let me go to her!" She begged.

 _"Elizabeth Jane Afton!"_ He cut off, voice raised. The teenager could feel the tenseness between them, even though he wasn't a part of the conversation. No one spoke for a moment as William inhaled deeply, the atmosphere around them seemingly dangerous.

"For the last time. _No._ I don't want to hear about this anymore. Do you understand?" He said, tone now flat and quiet. The blonde nodded solemnly beyond the door, gaze at the floor.

"I'm sorry sweetheart. You'll get your chance, you just...you have to be patient," William sighed. "I have to stop by the workshop...tell your mother when she gets home," he said, footsteps leaving the upstairs hall.

"Okay, Daddy," Elizabeth said quietly, voice barely above a whisper, though her sadness was blatantly obvious.

Michael leaned back against his pillows, listening to Elizabeth walking to her room. He straightened the comic, eyes wandering over the caped heroes, though his mind was elsewhere. Something didn't feel right...something about these new robots was off. He just didn't know what.

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

"How long have you been here?"

"I dunno. A long time, I think, but maybe not. It feels like a long time..."

"Do you remember what put you in the hospital?"

"Yeah-I think. I remember what happened first, but I don't know if it hurt me. I got bit by Freddy."

"How did that happen?"

"...I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay."

"What about you?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you get here?"

...

"I'll show you. Get comfortable. This is going to take a minute."

"Okay...?"

...

"Cassidy, how are you showing me this?"

"I don't know."

"I don't like it."

...

"I didn't like it either."


	23. Character Files

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Not a chapter, but I thought I'd give a better image of the characters and their backgrounds here. Enjoy!

_Character file: Christopher 'Chris' James Afton_

-Hair color: Brown

-Eye color: Blue

-Age: 6

-Height: 3 feet, 9 inches

Chris is the youngest of the Afton family and the second son of Clara and William Afton. Born in spring of 1977, he lived with his brother, sister, and parents in the suburbs of Hurricane. In the months of 1983 that led to his eventual death, he was agonized by his brother Michael, becoming quiet and reclusive as his young mind was torn apart by fear. His constant nightmares left little room for helpful rest, strengthening the hallucinations caused by his father's illusion devices that had been used for unintentional purposes. In the summer of 1983, one of the animatronics at his father's restaurant became the tool used to destroy his frontal lobe, leaving him in a coma state until he died at the Hurricane hospital two days later. He now possesses the Golden Freddy robot with one other soul [see Cassidy Morgan for further details].

_Character file: Clara Sue Evans-Afton_

-Hair color: Blonde

-Eye color: Amber

-Age: 37

-Height: 5 feet, six inches

Clara Evans lived in Salt Lake City, Utah until she and a college room-mate moved to St. George to study dance and choreography. There, she met William Afton, whom she dated for several months until their engagement and marriage in 1969 at age twenty-one. While her husband struggled to start a business with his partner Henry Emily [see Henry Emily and William Afton for further details], she started work as an instructor at a local dance school for girls. A year later, she gave birth to her first son, where the family of three lived by modest means in Hurricane, Utah. In 1974, William's restaurant shot to popularity, and later that year, they moved to a larger home close to her studio. In 1975, she gave birth to her daughter Elizabeth. Two years after, she had her last child; Christopher Afton. The family lived contently until the years of 1983-1984 where a series of tragedies would befall them, including the death of her youngest son [see Christopher Afton for further details].

_Character file: Elizabeth Jane Afton_

-Hair color: Blonde

-Eye color: Green

-Age: 8

-Height: Four feet

Elizabeth Afton is the only daughter of Clara and William Afton and the second in her family of five. Described as bubbly and happy, she's a definite "daddy's girl" and a source of positivity for her brothers and parents. She spent most of her time with her closest friend Charlie Emily until their father's separation in 1983 [see Henry Emily and William Afton for further details]. After her brother's death earlier that year, she became inseparable from her eldest sibling, Michael, becoming more reclusive at school and with friends, choosing to spend more time with her family. She currently attends the local elementary school and has taken up dance lessons from her mother.

_Character file: William David Afton_

-Hair color: Black

-Eye color: Hazel

-Age: 38

-Height: 6 feet, 2 inches

-Alternate alias: Dave Miller

William Afton lived in various regions of Southern Utah until moving to Hurricane to make an attempt at business with his high-school friend Henry Emily. At twenty years old, the two finally got some traction and began making headway on their dream. At twenty two, he met Clara Afton and became romantically interested until his eventual proposal in 1969. The two married and went on to have three children while William continued to make a living starting 'Fredbear's Family Diner' with Henry who later married and had a daughter [see Henry Emily for further details]. Their business boomed in 1974, rivaling other children's entertainment industries as various franchisee locations opened in the cities nearby. William soon became more ambitious in making the fantasy world he and Henry had created come to life and took up further education in robotics, going on to develop technology like sound-illusion discs among many other innovations later used for hurtful purposes. After his son's death in 1983, his crippling desire to have his child back consumed him, driving him to take extreme measures to make his wishes become reality. His first murder was that of Charlotte Emily, Henry's daughter [see Charlotte Emily for further details] where his bloodlust was born and he separated both in partnership and business from Mr. Emily. From then on, the kills he made only increased it and brought him closer to the possibility of bringing Christopher back. It also brought him nearer to the chance at immortality, another fantasy that would soon further corrupt his mind. He currently stands firm in his goals, willing to do anything to accomplish what he set out to do, no matter who else he has to hurt to get there.

_Character name: Michael Richard Afton_

-Hair color: Brunette

-Eye color: Amber

-Age: Fourteen

-Height: 5 feet, seven inches

Born in spring of 1970, Michael lived with his parents in the suburbs of Hurricane while his mother worked at a dance studio and his father managed business at 'Fredbear Family's Diner'. He remained an only child for several years until his sister Elizabeth and brother Christopher were born, making him eldest in his family. In his early teenage years, he became associated with other youth who made an obvious influence on him negatively. In the later months of 1982 and the ones leading to the summer of 1983, he started a series of pranks and tricks aimed at his younger brother, the extent of which was never fully realized until Chris' death later that year. He had never meant to hurt the boy as much as he did but was subsequently blinded by the praise he received from his friends. Their actions and encouragement eventually resulted in the nicknamed 'Bite of '83 Incident' that resulted in the tragic death of Christopher Afton [see Christopher Afton for further details]. After his passing, Michael became enveloped in grief and guilt, choosing to break all contact with out-of-family friends and acquaintances. The result of Chris' accident has led to him being particularly protective of his sister Elizabeth and he now stands trying to regain the trust he's lost between himself and his father. The rift currently stands in a mending process.

_Character file: Gabriel Lincoln Brown_

-Hair color: Brunette

-Eye color: Brown

-Age: 9

-Height: 4 feet, 2 inches

Gabriel Brown spent the first six years of his life in Jackson, Wyoming until his family's move to Richfield, Utah in 1981. Jeremy Drake, who lived just a few doors down from his new home, became one of his closest friends and confidants. The two loved spending time at the local pizzeria, one of the many Fazbear Entertainment locations that had been growing to popularity in the years prior. Said pizzeria became the place of his murder among many others including Jeremy in 1983 at the hands of William Afton [see William Afton for further details]. He died on his ninth birthday and now possesses the Freddy animatronic.

_Character file: Jeremy Lee Drake_

-Hair color: Black

-Eye color: Blue

-Age: 7

-Height: 4 feet

Jeremy Drake was born in 1976 in Richfield, Utah. When he was three years old, his parents divorced and he lived with his mother up until the time of his death in 1983. Described as quiet and introverted, he took up piano and guitar with his mother who was a music teacher at the local high school. When he was five years old, Gabriel Brown moved in just down the street from where he lived, and the two became close friends quickly. They both later were murdered at 'Freddy's Pizzeria', a restaurant they both played at often. Jeremy now possesses the Bonnie animatronic that previously performed there.

_Character file: Charlotte 'Charlie' Darla Emily_

-Hair color: Brunette

-Eye color: Brown

-Age: 7

-Height: 4 feet, 1 inch

Charlotte (better known as 'Charlie') Emily lived as a single child with her mother and father in Hurricane Utah. Her father Henry was an expertly skilled roboticist who dedicated much of his time trying to make a fantasy world for his daughter come to life with the help of close friend and partner William Afton. Their families were especially close; spending many Christmases and other holidays together-Charlotte became good friends with Elizabeth and Chris Afton, and they often played together at 'Fredbear's Family Diner'. After Chris' accidental death in 1983 [see Christopher Afton for further details], their families split contact, and not long after that, she was murdered in the alleyway outside her father's restaurant by William Afton [see William Afton for further details]. She now possesses Henry's security puppet with a promise of vengeance for her killer.

_Character file: Eleanor June Smith-Emily_

-Hair color: Dirty-blonde

-Eye color: Grey-Green

-Age: 35

-Height: 5 feet, 5 inches

Eleanor Smith-Emily lived in Bangor, Maine until moving to Cedar City, Utah at age eighteen after a quarrel with her parents about school. She moved again to Hurricane a few months later where she met Henry Emily. The two dated for three years until their marriage in 1970. Henry worked hard to create a children's entertainment business with his high-school friend, William Afton while she worked as a freelance artist at home. In 1976, she had her first and only child, Charlotte. The three lived happily as Fazbear's Entertainment grew until Charlotte's murder in 1983. Eleanor is unaware of her daughter's killer and has since fallen into a deep depression, spending more time at home than not. 

_Character file: Henry Thomas Emily_

-Hair color: Blonde

-Eye color: Blue

-Age: 38

-Height: 5 feet, 10 inches

Henry Emily lived in Hurricane Utah for the majority of his teen and adult life where he pursued his dream of creating a fantasy world in children's entertainment. A prodigy in robotics, he decided to make his dreams come to life through hand-made animatronics while his closest friend William Afton got their business to surface and become reality. The two worked for fourteen years together, marrying and starting families in the midst of it all. After the death of William's son Chris [see Christopher Afton for further details], William changed for the worse. Plans and means to do evil were kept hidden from Henry as he helped his friend create new animatronics for the new restaurant William wanted to start until he stumbled upon pieces of his plans in their workshop. From that point, he separated all ties between them and fought hard to keep his daughter safe, going to lengths of creating security robots for her and keeping her near as much as possible. It proved to not be enough as Charlotte was murdered in 1983 [see Charlotte Emily for further details]. Determined to bring William to justice, he now works as a rogue investigator, hunting for as much evidence as he can find to avenge his daughter and the others William has killed with the help of Dana Heard [see Dana Heard for further details].

_Character file: Susie Alice Harding_

-Hair color: Blonde

-Eye color: Blue

-Age: 8

-Height: 3 feet, 11 inches

Susie Harding has lived with her family of six in Richfield Utah for the entirety of her life. Described as happy and witty, she showed talents in cooking and art, and always knew how to cheer up the people around her. Her parents saw her as a good friend and a caring individual. Her disappearance in 1983 left them devastated as they continue to search for answers, unaware of her murder and death. She currently possesses the Chica animatronic from 'Freddy's Pizzeria'.

_Character file: Dana Heard_

-Hair color: Dirty-blonde

-Eye color: Hazel-green

-Age: 24

-Height: 5 feet, 5 inches

Dana Heard has lived on her own since she was seventeen years old, moving from her father's apartment in Logan, Utah to Richfield after years of familial disputes between them. She started work as a cashier until changing to shifts at the local Fazbear Entertainment location where she made modest wages but lived contently renting an older couple's basement just a few blocks away. In 1983, four children disappearances compelled the manager to change locations where she currently works with partner Dave Miller [See William Afton for further details]. After a confrontation with Henry Emily, she became more intrigued by the disappearances and now works with him to find answers [see Henry Emily for further details].

_Character file: Cassidy Jude Morgan_

-Hair color: Black

-Eye color: Green

-Age: 9

-Height: 4 feet, 5 inches

Cassidy Morgan lived in Hurricane Utah for the entirety of his life with his parents, brothers, and sister. He spent most of his time at 'Fredbear's Family Diner'; a place that grew to hold numerous wonders and excitement for him. After the summer of 1983, the two central animatronics that performed there went out of commission-an event that devastated the boy. New robots were put in their place, but the ones he loved most were now gone. Later that year, at a playdate at Fredbear's, a man (William Afton) dressed in the previous Golden Bonnie suit lured him back after hours where he was brutally murdered. Refusing to go to the afterlife, his soul grasped onto the best form it could. He now possesses the Golden Freddy suit with Christopher Afton [see Christopher Afton for further details] with a bloodlust desire for vengeance for his killer.

_Character file: Fritz Todd_

-Hair color: Red

-Eye color: Brown

-Age: 9

-Height: 4 feet, 4 inches

Fritz Todd moved from Mesa, Phoenix in 1978 to Richfield, Utah with his single father at age four. Only a few streets from their new home was 'Freddy's Pizzeria', a place that was both affordable entertainment and a source of joy for the boy. He went almost every day after school with friends or on his own, spending most of his time near Pirate Cove where Foxy dwelled (Fritz's favorite robot). The years he lived there for were largely peaceful and untainted until 1983 where he was murdered by William Afton at the restaurant he had loved so much [see William Afton for further details]. Described as ferocious, protective, and adventurous, he was a good friend to the people he knew and as such was a great loss when he disappeared. He now possesses the Foxy animatronic with a restless spirit.


	24. why u so tall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Just An Attraction by TryHardNinja!

Dana pushed open the glass doors ahead of her, immediately blasted by the sounds of party music, arcade-games, children laughing (some screaming), and the clatter of plates from a kitchen somewhere. She pulled her coat tighter around herself as she stepped inside, peering through her fake glasses. She made her way closer to the middle of the giant room, looking around at the various signs hung everywhere.

"ARCADE!"

"PARTY ROOMS A-G --->"

"<\---PARTY ROOMS H-Q"

"KITCHEN"

"RESTROOMS"

"BALLORA GALLERY"

"FUNTIME AUDITORIUM"

"CIRCUS BABY'S GALLERY"

"EMPLOYEES ONLY"

Dana gave a low whistle. Allan certainly never had their restaurants quite so...organized. She should bring it up later, when he wasn't in a bad mood, except he always was. Dana hummed, looking around as she strolled to the main stage where three figures stood atop it, each performing some dance or gimmick. 

As she got closer, she realized just how _big_ these things were. A bear, resembling Freddy with a rabbit hand-puppet stood somewhat in the middle, robotically turning his head side to side as his mouth opened and closed in song. His ears twitched and his eyes flickered around as he moved, and despite being second-shortest on stage, he was still taller than the animatronics back at Dana's restaurant.

"That thing's gotta be six feet at least," the woman murmured to herself, eyes widened slightly as she turned her gaze to the fox animatronic next to it. It was shorter than the bear was, but not by much. It moved more fluidly, but looked nothing like the fox robot she was familiar with. It looked somewhat...anxious in its movements, unnatural twitches in its turns. It felt unprogrammed, wrong. Dana made a mental note as she looked at the last robot on stage.

The figure on the left was much taller than the others and was human-like in form, not keeping with the animal theme of the other animatronics. Its eyes were shut gently as it bent up and down, occasionally twirling or spinning as its arms curved in and out of form, graceful in all its movement. Dana's mouth fell somewhat agape looking at it before a woman's voice cut into her engrossment.

"Like it?" The female asked, coming to stand next to her. Caught off guard and surprised, Dana let out a gurgled squeak, clearing her throat hurriedly as she glanced at the girl next to her. She was slightly taller, though not by much, wearing a purple shirt with her blonde hair done up into a delicate bun. Dana's eyes caught the butterfly necklace around her neck as she spoke again.

"My husband spent so much time on that one-he wasn't satisfied until he got the design I drew up for him," she said with her lips curving upward into a friendly smile as she gazed at the robot. Dana blinked, just registering what she had said as she turned her eyes back to the ballerina.

"Your husband made these?" She questioned, peering back at the woman.

"Oh, yes," she answered, turning to her as she extended a lithe hand. "My name is Clara." She said as Dana shook it, giving her a kind smile. Dana couldn't help but return the gesture as Clara looked back at the stage.

"So...you designed them?" She questioned, glad to have found Mrs. Afton so quickly. "Well, just Ballora," the woman answered, gesturing to the ballerina in front of them. "I joked that I could make a better-looking robot than Will could, but then he wanted to see if that was true. The kids voted for mine," she smiled again with a light laugh.

Dana chuckled, putting her hands in her pockets. "Are your kids here with you?" She asked. 

Clara nodded. "Well, one of them is, at least. My daughter, Elizabeth, is in love with this place. She could walk here blindfolded if we let her. My son, Michael, is at home tinkering with something, I'm sure. Taking after robotics like his father I think, though he has little interest in business."

Dana hummed. "Did he help with these?" She questioned, nodding her head towards the animatronics. "Not to my knowledge. Lately, Will's been keeping his projects to himself, but he's probably just trying to be safe..." Clara said, trailing off as a frown tugged at her lips. Dana peered at her out the corner of her eye, watching as the woman fingered her necklace quietly.

"I've been to a few Fazbear places and I don't think I've ever seen them this...tall..." Dana added, trying to redirect the conversation to draw Clara from whatever thought she was falling into. "You know, I asked about that," the woman said, one eyebrow raised. "But he didn't really give me a straight answer. Maybe he thought the adults would want the kid experience too-have them towering over you like that," the woman joked with a laugh.

Dana chuckled in response, nodding. Clara looked like she was about to continue when a girl came up to them and started tugging on her sleeve. "Momma, do you have more tokens?" She asked hopefully. 

"Hmm," the woman said, checking her pockets. "No, but we can go get some from Daddy's office," she answered, pulling a key from her belt. The girl-who must be Elizabeth-took Clara's hand and started away towards the arcade.

"Nice talking to you, Miss...?" Clara started, hesitating as her daughter continued trying to pull her away from the stage.

"Uh-" Dana started, cheeks flushing. "Um-Caroline," she stuttered. The woman smiled. "Nice talking to you, Caroline," she said as Elizabeth dragged her further away. 

"You too," Dana said with a wave as Clara turned away, leaving her at the stage alone. Dana focused her gaze back at the animatronics for another moment, taking in their presence. Something about them seemed wrong, evil. Not like the robots she was accustomed to. But nothing seemed out of place...

She narrowed her eyes, taking mental pictures of the figures one last time as she turned to leave.

...

Something was wrong. She could feel it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael panted heavily, trying to keep his grip on the wrench as his already wet hands began slipping. He grunted, pushing it more as the bolt finally tightened. The boy sighed in relief, pulling the tool away as he straightened, wiping his sweaty brow with his arm. Despite being in the later days of December, he was _hot._

The garage was insulated well and left plenty of room for their cars and the various pieces of machinery William kept at home, but still small enough to contain a good amount of heat. That plus all the physical exertion used on Michael's new project was turning him into an oven. 

The boy stepped back, resting his hands on his waist as he examined his work. Candy Cadet was coming along nicely, all things considered. He looked the robot up and down then glanced to the screw-box, eyes searching for countersunk bolts. Michael frowned as there didn't seem to be any in there.

The only other place there _could_ be some was his dad's office, and he wanted to take a drink-break anyway. 

The teen set the wrench down on a workbench and ran a hand through his hair as he walked up the garage-door steps into the kitchen. He sighed with a smile as a wave of cooler air hit him. He walked to the fridge and pulled out a juice pack, taking greedy sips from it as he started down the hallway to a large oak door.

Michael cautiously walked inside, glancing around at he immaculate office. He hadn't been in there in _months,_ but it was just as organized as ever, though there were some new additions to the small space. 

He walked to one of the drawers against the wall opposite of the desk and opened the top one, rummaging through spare bits of metal and springs until he found the bolts he wanted. As far as his father was concerned, it was fine if things were taken from the junk drawer so long as any missing parts were replaced later. Michael could take care of that.

The boy pulled away from the dresser, turning to leave before blueprints hanging on the wall caught his eye. He stepped closer, examining the sheets pinned to the corkboard, each with neat notes scribbled on them with arrows pointing back to various parts of the designed machines. 

Upon further pondering, Michael recognized them as the Funtime animatronics his father had been working on for so long. He cocked his head, trying to understand the complicated lines intertwining on the paper. He could identify some mechanics and designs, but there were definitely a lot he didn't understand.

Michael's eyes swept over the diagrams, carefully looking at every detail before stopping at the torso. What on Earth...?

The boy's eyebrows narrowed as he leaned closer, fingers gently touching the surface of the paper. Were the insides of these robots _hollow?_ Michael looked closer at the torso, trying to see anything else out of the ordinary, but the only other odd item was a lever-looking mechanism barely visible through the various overlapping lines on the paper. At least, it _looked_ like a lever, but it was hard to tell.

Michael sighed, stepping back. Whatever. It was probably fine. His dad wouldn't make anything dangerous...

Right?

\-------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you okay? You've been really quiet..."

...

"Chris?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't _seem_ fine."

"Oh, yeah?"

"You really don't. What's wrong?"

"...it's nothing. Forget it."

_Sigh_

"Please, just...forget it."

"Was it what I showed you?"

"I said, _drop it._ "

"...Fine."

...

"Chris, if it's still bothering you later, will you tell me? Please?"

...

...

"...okay."


	25. Listen to Daddy or get clawed, sucker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Don't Come Crying by TryHardNinja!

Dana tapped her fingers rhythmically on her counter, one after the other moving to match the random tunes floating in the back of her mind. She looked down at the notepad in front of her, eyes glossing over the little messages and notations she'd written after her trip to Afton's restaurant. There weren't many since there wasn't much to note of there, but it was enough to warrant a call to Henry.

The phone at her ear continued its intermittent buzz, each one letting her know that no one had picked up yet. Dana sighed as it continued, hope winding down as the eventual voice-mail instructor spoke robotically on the other end. She waited until the beep to relay her message.

"Hey, Henry. Just wanted to let you know that the trip went well...didn't run into anyone suspicious, but I got to talking with Clara. She doesn't seem to know anything about what Afton's been up to but knows something's up with his new robots," she spoke, pencil tapping her notepad as she continued.

"I don't know much about animatronics, but I know that they aren't supposed to be as huge as the ones Afton's got at that circus of his. I swear, the biggest one was nearly seven feet tall...that was about all I could gather. Other than that, everything went well and there weren't any troubles..." Dana trailed off. 

She sighed, adjusting her grip on the phone. "Could you get back to me soon? I just...this whole thing screams 'danger' and I feel like Afton's closer than we think. It's weirding me out." 

The woman sighed again and cleared her throat. "Sorry. Just getting to me a little I guess. Be safe."

Dana hung up, setting the phone back on the wall. She took a deep breath, moving to grab a box of cereal from a cabinet. She took a bowl and spoon back to the table and carelessly shook some of the food into her dish, not caring to grab milk as she began to eat.

This whole situation was way too reminiscent of the incident all those years ago...no one ever _found_ Joey after all. What was it-fourteen years ago, now? But it felt as fresh in her mind as it did those first two weeks after his disappearance. They were just kids...

Dana felt her eyes burn as a stinging sensation started in them. It didn't matter how long ago it was, it still _hurt_. He was fine, living perfectly happy, quite content to play with her in the cow fields down the road or in the empty lots near their neighborhood until he was _stolen_ from them.

The woman felt a lump in her throat as her vision blurred; water moistening her eyes uncomfortably.

All they ever found out was that he and some boys had gone to play in the forests a few miles from town and got separated, only to come home that evening to realize Joey hadn't returned with them. It became apparent what happened soon enough...that area was known for being frequented by drug addicts and homeless people. Some of Joey's blood was identified near a stream within the forest. Weeks later, his shoes and shirt were found discarded further down the river. A full body was never recovered.

Dana shuddered as a single sob racked her body. It wasn't _fair_ for that kind of brutalization to happen, especially to a _child._ What was worse is that they never really knew what happened to him, but in all honesty, that might've been a blessing for them. She didn't want to think of the things that could have happened to that boy. She'd heard too many stories of others with similar fates...

The woman breathed shakily, completely forgetting about the food in front of her as slow tears rolled down her cheeks. It was a nightmare, having to endure her friend's absence and the mystery surrounding it. She'd _had_ nightmares about it; her mind unwillingly creating hellish possibilities and answers for her, none of which were pleasant.

But that's why she was doing this now, wasn't it? So that she could give answers and peace to the families that so desperately needed them? So that this endless cycle of torture could stop and so that the perpetrator could never hurt anyone again? And maybe to help her heal as well?

The woman swallowed, inhaling slowly. Heaven knows she needed to be healed from that. Needed psychiatric help, probably, but she couldn't afford that and no one else was going to help her. Her father made that _perfectly_ clear when she left.

Dana swallowed again, standing to make herself a hot chocolate. She had gone without a stable parental figure in her life for so long and had gotten so accustomed to living without the affection a child needs...not that she was a child anymore, but she was when she left. She was independent and could provide basic necessities for herself, but that didn't mean she didn't want that kind of attention.

Now, working with Henry, she was beginning to see just how badly she'd been longing for that affection. She saw how much he fought for justice for his daughter and could only imagine the kind of bond they had. It didn't make her feel jealous, but it did make her feel sad for never really receiving any of that love for herself. 

In any case, she was more than eager to help him. Getting to experience his kindness was definitely an added bonus on top of everything else. 

Dana chuckled to herself, stirring in the chocolate powder with the milk in her mug. The only other tolerable human within a twelve-mile radius was Ray. Good kid. 

She blew gently on her drink, watching the steam billow away. She sighed and took a sip, about to take another when a shadow at her closed window nearly made her drop the mug.

_"Charlie?!"_

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Balloons. Balloons everywhere. They were nice as a novelty for birthday parties and whatnot, but when you're around them _all the time,_ they lose their charm. At least, that's what Michael thought. But, it was Elizabeth's birthday, and as such, balloons were a must.

The teen watched contently with his chin in his hand as his sister tore through another gift. His had already been opened and was sitting closest to her on the table, obviously already cherished and held with an air of importance as it kept its spot away from all the others. A smile grew on the girl's face as she unboxed a toy puppy, immediately moving aside the discarded party hats and plates (one bearing the number nine candle from the cake) to make room for the new item.

Michael's eyes flickered to his parents, both of which were sitting next to Elizabeth, helping to clean away the wrapping paper and ribbon that was building at their feet. The party didn't have many guests as Elizabeth didn't have many friends and they hadn't any relatives close enough to attend. But the girl seemed okay with that.

Probably because Baby was finally on stage.

His sister had pestered and pestered her father until she got her birthday wish; a day with that robot performing. Not that she was allowed anywhere near it, especially not without parental supervision, preferably with William. But she was ecstatic anyway.

"Thank you mama!" The girl exclaimed happily, throwing her small arms around Clara's neck as the gift-opening was finally over. "Oh, you're so welcome Liz-a-bug," the woman replied, applying the affectionate nickname. "Happy birthday, sweetheart," their father added, opening his arms for a hug, which Elizabeth gladly offered.

William's head suddenly turned to the arcade area as the flashing lights from one of the larger games suddenly flickered out. "Confound it," he muttered, shaking his head in annoyance. "Second time this week. I'll be right back," he said, standing as he ruffled Elizabeth's hair. 

"Alright, honey. I'm going to start taking these out to the car," Clara said, gesturing to the gifts on the table as she stood up. "Thanks Clair," William nodded, squeezing her shoulder before making his way from them to the arcade. 

"Mikey, could you help me?" Clara asked, taking some of the presents into her arms. The teen felt his cheeks flush at the use of his nickname in a public area-heaven forbid-before moving to help his mother.

"I can help," Elizabeth offered, ready to take up some items before the woman shook her head. "That's alright Lizabeth; why don't you go play with your friends?" She smiled, nodding her head towards the girls her daughter had invited. Elizabeth's lips turned upwards happily as she nodded, turning to the other kids.

Michael picked up some of the still-boxed gifts and headed towards the exit, catching a glimpse of his sister turning down the hallway to Circus Baby's Gallery. He chuckled lightly to himself as he walked out into the parking lot.

...

Elizabeth giggled, following the others into one of the larger rooms, the only other one with a stage. There were only a few other children in there, some coming and going, all full of energy and excitement. 

The girl instantly forgot about all else, her friends, her party, everything as she gazed up at the magical spectacle before her. Baby was performing, all her movements graceful and fluid as she sang lightly into the microphone she held. She seemed so real; her hair held a gentle shimmer that perfectly imitated real tresses and her limbs, while white, appeared soft and just as alive as an actual human would be. Her blue eyes caught Elizabeth especially, deep and alluring...

...like gemstones. 

Elizabeth moved closer, unaware as the number of children in the room dwindled. Baby's head gently turned from side to side, hair flipping lightly as she moved. She seemed to be surveying the room, and as fewer and fewer people existed within it, her attention slowly began to turn to the child in front of her.

Eventually, Baby's gaze turned completely downward to Elizabeth. Elizabeth glanced around nervously, making sure her father wasn't there. She knew she'd be in big trouble if he was. 

"Daddy isn't watching," she said quietly, whispering to the robot. The girl seemed to hold her breath as she stepped forward. Baby had stopped singing, as if entranced by the child's presence.

"Don't tell Daddy that I'm here," Elizabeth spoke, a little louder as she leaned closer to the stage. "I wanted to watch your show too. I don't know why he won't let me come see you. You're wonderful!"

She smiled, completely enveloped in the animatronics' presence, looking forward with sheer admiration and excitement. Baby looked down at her, somewhat frozen as the girl suddenly looked around in confusion. 

"Where did all the other children go?"

Baby gave no reply. Instead, her stomach plate opened to reveal an extended cone of ice cream, perfectly portioned and completely ready for the taking. 

Elizabeth's eyes widened and her mouth dropped slightly at the sight. This was a literal dream come true. Slowly, she moved closer, hand forward to take the treat. Baby seemed to be frozen in place, hesitantly awaiting something as the girl leaned further...

Suddenly, Elizabeth screamed. The ice cream was gone and instead, a menacing metal claw was in its place, thrusting itself forward like a cobra as it embedded itself into the girl's stomach. Like lightning, it pulled back inward, taking Elizabeth with it, limp as a doll as the torso plates closed again, hiding the girl inside.

Baby resumed singing.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael sat back down at the table as his mother chatted with one of the other parents at the party. He picked up one of the toy tops left discarded by a stack of plates and twirled it carelessly on the tablecloth, thoroughly bored. He sighed, then stood, deciding to go look for his sister.

...

He searched for nearly five minutes, checking every party room and table, looking around the arcade room and ballpit, even taking a quick glance around his dad's office, but the blonde was nowhere in sight. 

Odd.

Michael walked back from one of the party rooms to where their table was, finding that his mother had finally pulled from her conversation. His father too, was coming back from the arcade.

The man neared them, starting to roll his sleeves back over his arms-one bandaged, though William said it was just from a minor injury at the workshop despite it being there for over a week. If it was that bad, he should go to a doctor, at least in the boy's opinion.

"I need to have a guy come in and look at that. It's definitely an internal problem that I can't fix," the man said, coming to sit next to Clara. "Did you put a sign on it?" She asked as he rebuttoned his sleeve cuffs. "Yeah. Hopefully those kids will take a hint and stay away from it," he said in a joking tone. 

"Hey, have you guys seen Liz anywhere?" Michael interjected, not wanting to wait for more of their conversation. "I haven't. Maybe she's in one of the party rooms," his mother replied, looking around the attractions near them.

"I don't think so. Just looked. She isn't in Dad's office either," he replied. William suddenly froze, a dark look shadowing his face.

"What did you say?" He asked suddenly, a commanding tone in his voice. 

"Um...I couldn't find Lizzy," Michael murmured apprehensively. His father suddenly got to his feet, a look of horror and fear outlined in his face.

"Where's Elizabeth?" He demanded, looking at both his wife and son.

"Will, I don't-"

_"Where's Elizabeth?"_


	26. when will you learn that your actions have consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: They'll Keep You Running by CK9C!

The ringing in William's ears grew in intensity as he tore himself away from Clara, dashing towards the hall in front of him. Everything seemed to be spinning and his movements were sloppy and unstable. He crashed into walls twice, not aware of the children around him that were hurrying to move out of his way. 

The thought in his mind loomed like a dark cloud, not focused enough to comprehend...his conscious pushed it away, refused to accept it as a possibility as he ran. His breathing grew ragged and shallow as dread swelled inside his chest painfully. It couldn't be happening, it just _couldn't..._

The man pushed through the doors into Circus Baby's Gallery. The room was empty and silent save for the robot's gentle singing as it turned its head back and forth for its absent audience. William's heart beat faster as he sprinted to Baby. Unbidden memories of Chris' incident surfaced in his mind as the all too familiar situation began to play out again in front of his eyes.

He hurried behind the thing, flipping the deactivation switch at the back of its neck. It slowly stopped, limbs falling limp as it slumped forward lifelessly. The crushing fear in William's chest increased as his gaze fell to a small cavity on Baby's back. Instead of showing its usual white light, it was a brilliant green; indicating that it had caught something. His mouth went dry and his panic swelled as he fumbled to open the torso plates. 

_No..._

This couldn't be happening...

Not _again..._

Blonde hair curtained a small mangled body inside the machine, the ends a poignant scarlet from dipping into the blood-soaked limbs below it. William could see dozens of deep holes and lacerations littered throughout the child's form; evidence of a brutal springlock. The red...the red was _everywhere,_ coating her clothes and skin and the metal prison she sat crouched in. It wasn't possible to know what color her outfit was before from all the blood.

Despite that, it was easy to tell that this child was Elizabeth. A bow Clara had sown her months ago sat tied at the top of her head, knocked askew from the scuffle. William's hands trembled as he reached inside Baby and pulled his daughter away from its jaws.

He couldn't accept it. His mind was pulling from the reality in front of him, desperately clawing for any answer, any alternate situation it could to not have to live with the shattering resolution in front of him.

But he knew.

He knew that _this_ -his little girl, his little angel-was dead and in his arms. 

And it was his fault.

All his fault.

William held Elizabeth tighter with desperation, as if doing so would force her to awaken. The girl's eyes were barely open, showing their brilliant green that was even brighter against her paled skin. 

He pulled her onto his knees, brushing a hand through her bangs as tears fell unbidden from his eyes onto her face, distorting the drying blood there. William's chest constricted as sobs began to wrack his body. He held her closer, not caring about the blood staining his shirt as he tightened his grip on the broken body, pulling her closer to his chest. He shut his eyes. He couldn't...he couldn't...

The sound of the doors banging open barely registered in his ears as Clara and Michael burst into the room. He could hardly hear his wife's screams as she ran towards him. All he knew was the darkness eating his mind as his senses began to go numb.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

 _"Dad!"_ Michael called as his father took off away from the table. He and his mother exchanged looks for a moment before they stood. He followed her as they tried to hurriedly maneuver through the crowds of parents and children to follow the man.

He didn't know why his father was in such a frenzy, but seeing him like... _that._..again stirred deep terror inside his chest. Finally, they were outside Baby's Gallery. Clara pushed open the doors with force, causing them to bang on the walls on the other side.

She suddenly froze before screams tore from her throat. Michael had only heard her do that once before, and hearing her do it again terrified him to his core. He peered around her form as she ran to the stage...

His eyes widened. William was kneeling in front of Baby, holding who he could only assume was Elizabeth. From the amount of red he could see from where he was standing, he knew something was _horribly_ wrong. 

Michael fell to his knees, limbs and hands shaking as his his breathing began to grow erratic and shallow. He felt like he couldn't breathe; each inhale rewarding him with nothing as his lungs began to burn, growing lightheaded as he sat there in shock. The outline of his vision grew dark and static seemed to fill his eyes. He couldn't see and he couldn't breathe.

This couldn't- _no,_ not again-first Chris and now Elizabeth. He couldn't save her-

It was his fault, he should have been keeping an eye on her-

He should have-

He should've-

_No-_

Michael felt incredibly weak as the hands that had been clutching his head suddenly felt heavy. He let himself slump to the floor, forehead on the cold ground. He was on the verge of passing out, lights and black spots dancing in his vision as he tried to inhale. He groggily registered adults standing behind him in shock, some yelling to others to call for help, others trying to move young eyes away from the room.

He heard shuffling from the stage and forced himself to look up. His father had turned, still clutching Elizabeth as Clara leaned over them both, sobbing hysterically. He now got a full view of the carnage-ridden body of his sister...

It was too much.

Michael felt bile quickly rising in his throat and he hurriedly moved to the side of the doorway, vomiting violently onto the tile. His mouth burned as he heaved. He couldn't get the image out of his mind-Elizabeth had been _drenched_ in blood, there was too much, way too much-

There was no way she could still be alive if any of it was hers. Michael choked out a sob as hot tears ran from his eyes. He didn't care if any of the adults outside saw him like this, he didn't care, his sister was _dead_ and the horrific realization that he had now lost both of his siblings in the course of just a few months was tearing him apart.

He didn't know how long he knelt there with a hand over his mouth, but it was long enough for police to have been called. The teen felt a hand grip his shoulder firmly. Michael could hear someone talking to him-a male, voice deepened with age-but couldn't understand the words being spoken to him. His eyes fluttered open as the hand moved to his underarm and pulled him up and away from the wall. 

Michael could see the dark blue of a police outfit as he was helped to his feet. The grip on his arm stayed, but softened as he was led out of the room and towards the main gallery. The boy could tell that not nearly as many people were at the restaurant anymore, but could somewhat see flashing lights outside. His vision was blurry and unfocused and he could hardly see where he was going. The hand on his arm held him close to a torso and kept him from crumpling back to his knees; for which he was grateful.

Michael felt himself being guided to a seat near one of the party tables. His eyes were wide open and glazed with hot tears threatening to fall and re-stain his cheeks over the drying ones. 

"Son?" The voice from before asked. Michael's mouth opened slightly, but no sound left it. His unfocused eyes registered a police uniform stooping to kneel in front of him and he felt two hands gently gripping his shoulders.

"He's in shock," the man said, looking a different direction as the boy began to shake. It wasn't cold, though, why was he...?

He felt a wool blanket drape around his shoulders and he tried to pull it closer around himself, but his hands could barely clasp the comforter's edges. The man in front of him seemed to notice and leaned forward, pulling it tighter around the boy.

Michael focused on taking steady breaths, trying to clear the cloud in his mind as his head throbbed painfully. He suddenly flinched as he felt calloused fingers pry his apart and press a warm paper cup into his hand. He looked down and saw the steam billowing from a drink inside. The boy lifted it to his lips with more effort than he wanted to admit, taking a small sip of what he discovered to be hot chocolate.

Michael felt the liquid coat his tongue, washing away the stinging acid left in his mouth as he swallowed. The warmth spread inside his body comfortingly and he took another drink. Something in his head seemed to pop as his vision began to clear slowly, ears finally taking in the sounds around him. 

The teen sighed tiredly, letting his hands still clutching the cup fall to his lap. "Hey, kiddo," that voice said in front of him. Michael looked up, taking in the sight of an older man in front of him. A few scars littered one side of his face, making his already rough appearance seem gruffer, but the hazel-green eyes looking intently at him bore only kindness and empathy.

"Could you tell me your name, son?" The man asked. The teen realized that the cop's hands had moved from his shoulders to his elbows, holding them comfortingly. "M-Michael," he rasped, voice roughened. The man nodded. "Michael, my name's Grant."

Michael nodded with effort, feeling the weakness wracking his body as he moved. "Your sister's been in a bad accident," Grant continued, his grip on the boy's arms tightening slightly. The boy swallowed tensely as his eyes burned again. "I know," he whispered as a tear broke from its barrier and fell down his cheek.

"We don't know what's happened yet, Michael...but Elizabeth has been killed," Grant spoke in a reverent tone.

Another tear fell. The teen said nothing as his eyes stared forward. "Michael, you're in shock right now, and you will be for a few more hours. There are paramedics here to take care of you, but they probably won't take you to the hospital unless you feel like you need to," the man said, his voice holding some semblance of stability that Michael latched onto.

The boy just shook his head slowly as a lump welled in his throat. _"I just want to go home,"_ he whispered, grip on the cup tightening. Grant nodded, standing. "We'll get you home, Michael," he murmured, letting go of the teen's arms.

Michael saw Grant walking away out the corner of his eyes. He could vaguely hear his mother's broken voice and other unknown adults questioning them. Strings of "Is there anyone you can stay with" and "Is there family that can come stay with you" floated around the area, barely becoming clear in his mind. He knew the answer to all these questions, and they were all no. Their closest relatives lived in Idaho. He didn't even know his cousins. They were never close.

The only other family they would have called were the Emily's, but he knew that wasn't happening. 

Michael's head throbbed more and his eyes began to fall closed. He was barely aware of the cup being taken from his hands as he slumped over, falling into dreamless sleep as strong arms tried to hold him upright.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The boy woke later in his bed...at home. Michael exhaled as he peered at his ceiling, utterly confused as moonlight began creeping through his window. He turned his head to the clock on his wall. It was evening alright...he had been out for hours.

What had happened, what...? 

The sudden realization and remembrance of what occurred hours earlier hit him like a truck. That's right. Elizabeth was dead. Vague, fuzzy memories of him being brought home graced his mind painfully. Michael sat up, suddenly clutching his head, groaning as the throbbing returned. 

When he opened his eyes again, the sight of a water glass and pills at his nightstand caught his vision. Thanking whoever put them there, he turned and unscrewed the bottle-cap, tapping out two capsules as he cocked his head back and swallowed them with a quick gulp. The teen sighed tiredly, scooting back to lean against the headboard of his bed.

What had happened to Elizabeth?

His closed eyes tightened as hot tears budded at them again. He had to talk to someone...not his mother or father, as he was sure they were asleep by now...or not, given the circumstances. Either way, he didn't want to burden them with questions. 

But the only other person he could talk to...

Michael laid back, arm over his eyes as he contemplated whether or not he should call him. He sat for another few moments before sighing, swinging his legs over the mattress and to the floor. The boy stood, realizing that he was wearing pajamas. He didn't remember changing...

Whatever. He hugged his arms around himself as he silently opened his bedroom door and walked out into the hallway. He shot a look at his parents' door, which was closed, thankfully as he crept to the basement. He didn't want to be disturbed.

Michael walked down the last of the carpeted steps and tip-toed through the family room to where a phone lay on a table near an armchair. The teen inhaled shakily, hand frozen over the phone. Was he really doing this?

The boy bit his lip before hurriedly seizing the thing, quickly dialing a well-memorized sequence into the number-pad. Michael tapped his fingers nervously on the table as the phone rang on the other end. He didn't know if it would be picked up. Given the time and the circumstances, he wouldn't be surprised if it went to voice-mail.

...

...

...

The boy's heart leapt as a click resounded.

...

_"...Hello?"_

The teen almost whimpered from relief. "H...Henry?" He asked hesitantly, both hands now gripping the phone intensely.

 _"Michael?"_ The man replied, a note of surprise and concern in his voice.

"H-Hey," The boy choked out as tears began to well in his eyes.

_"Is everything alright?"_

" _No_ -No it's not...nothing's alright...is-is it okay if I...?"

 _"You can talk to me kiddo,"_ Henry spoke gently.

Michael inhaled, feeling his breath hitch. He breathed out slowly, gathering what remaining stability he had left as tried to relax his tense limbs.

"Something happened today...something really bad..."


	27. Just a late-night chat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Goodbye by TryHardNinja!

"Something happened today...something really bad..."

Michael inhaled, breath shuddering. He closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "It's Elizabeth..." he whispered.

 _"What about her?"_ Henry asked patiently.

"She-She..." the boy stuttered. He swallowed, feeling tears pricking his eyes again. "She's dead, Henry. Elizabeth's dead."

There was silence on the end for a moment. _"What happened?"_ The man questioned, a tone of deep sorrow and empathy in his voice. He had known her well, after all.

"I don't know...we were at Dad's new place and she-she was only gone for a minute, I had gone to help Mama take some stuff to the car, but I should have stayed, I could have stopped it, I could have-" Michael rushed out, feeling his breathing become shallow again. His head was spinning and he began to lose his balance, collapsing onto the armchair next to him.

 _"I-I could've-"_ he rasped, hyperventilating. Henry cut him off. 

_"Mike, whatever you're thinking, this is_ not _your fault. Stop telling yourself that, alright? You need to breathe."_

 _"I-I can't,"_ Michael forced out, his clutch on the chair tightening as panic clouded his mind. 

_"You need to breathe,"_ Henry repeated firmly, a sort of commanding instruction in his tone. _"In and out."_

Michael nodded to himself, closing his eyes firmly as he tried to inhale slower. It hitched uncomfortably, but the dark edges in his vision lightened considerably as he breathed back out. Again, he thought to himself, making the inhale slow and steadier. 

He did this for a few minutes while Henry gently guided him on the other end of the line. Finally, it was almost normal save for the occasional shudder in his chest. No one spoke for a moment.

 _"Are you alright?"_ Henry asked softly.

"Better..." the boy replied tiredly. 

_"Do you want to continue talking about it? You can call me later if you need to."_

Michael shook his head, swallowing before realizing there was no way the man saw his gesture. "No, I need to do it now or I'm not gonna get any sleep tonight...if that's okay with you," he added, feeling a twist of guilt in his chest as he remembered how late it was.

 _"Of course it is. And, in any case...I think I need to know too,"_ Henry spoke, voice trailing.

The boy breathed out again, gathering his composure-little of it there was-and spoke. "We had her party today at Dad's restaurant. Everything was fine until Dad had to go check out an arcade game and Mama and I took Lizzy's gifts out to the car. She left with some friends."

Michael closed his eyes, remembering in picture-perfect detail what transpired hours earlier. "When we came back, I went looking for her, but couldn't find her. I tried to talk to Mama and Dad about it, but he just took off straight to Baby's Gallery-Lizabeth's favorite place-and we both came after him. By the time we got there..."

The boy paused, taking deep breaths. He didn't want to have to recall this part, not now, and not ever again. He wanted to forget it altogether, but such a notion was going to dangle from his reach forever. He knew he'd never forget. But...if he didn't talk about it now, the image would keep burning in his mind until he did. 

Henry waited patiently for him to continue, most surely hearing the teenager trying to steady himself. Best uncle ever, Michael thought as he exhaled slowly. "By the time we got there, Dad was holding her. There...there was so much blood, _so_ much blood...I was scared," he continued, voice descending into a whisper.

"When I saw her completely, I...I knew she was dead. Someone must have called the police because next thing I remember was a cop talking to me. He said she was gone and that I was in shock. Maybe I still am, I dunno. I fell asleep and only just woke up a little while ago. I don't know anything else, I don't even know where she is."

Henry was quiet for a moment, something that only made Michael more anxious about what he would say. Did he think it was his fault for not protecting her? He sure did. His fault, his fault...he should have been there...

_"Michael, I am so, so sorry. I know how close you both were."_

"You were too," the boy mumbled in reply.

_"Yes. Yes I was."_

Michael thought for a moment, gathering the courage to ask the question that had been eating at his mind for months. "What happened between you and Dad anyway? We haven't seen you or Nora or Charlie since the summer. I'm surprised he didn't call you...and you haven't called us either."

There was a subtle but audible huff in seeming frustration on the other end before Henry sighed sadly. _"That's something I can discuss with you later, but I don't want to burden you with another tragedy so soon after this one."_

Michael felt a flair of annoyance and frustration in his chest. No one was telling him _anything_ about why their families had parted, and not even Mama seemed to know what had happened. It was so bothersome...but that anger rapidly dissipated into guilt. It was selfish of him to desire that when Henry obviously didn't want to talk about it right now...and he was probably right, too. He always was.

Neither spoke, each seemingly in their own thoughts until the man broke the silence and drew Michael from his stupor. _"Michael, firstly, I'm so sorry you've had to lose another sibling so soon. It isn't fair and it isn't right. You should have been able to enjoy living with them for many many years."_

The boy felt those insufferable tears pricking at his eyes again. Ugh. He sniffled, raising a hand to wipe his already moistening cheeks as Henry continued. _"I know I've been away, and I'm sure it's made things...harder for you. But please know that you can call me at any time, alright? No matter the occasion or time of day. I'm here."_

The teen nodded to himself, feeling a lump welling in his throat annoyingly. He was fourteen for crying out loud, wasn't he supposed to be past all this emotional stuff? Being overly weepy was for kids and girls. And he certainly wasn't either. So he kept trying to tell himself as the tears continued to fall.

_"And...above all, Michael, I want you to know that this wasn't your fault."_

Michael felt his breath catch in his chest painfully. What did he mean, _it wasn't his fault?_ Of course it was. Chris' death was his fault and he should have known better than to leave his sister unprotected. He failed, again.

Henry seemed to sense his doubt and a firmness entered his voice as he continued. _"This wasn't your fault and I don't want to hear you telling yourself that. However Elizabeth died, it wasn't by your hands. You loved that girl with all your heart and did all you could to protect her, always. And by the sound of things, it doesn't seem like there was a way for you to know anyway. She was in a place that was supposed to be safe and secure, and by whatever twisted way it wasn't, but that doesn't make you the perpetrator here. Do you understand?"_

Michael felt a sob rack his body at those words. Tears were really coming now, as if they weren't before. Henry was right; he really had missed and needed the man during the past, painful months. The boy had begun to shake and shiver from his cries, weakening to the point of struggling to hold the phone, but he tightened his hold on it. It was if he didn't, Henry's voice of comfort would be lost from him forever.

"Y-Yeah...I understand," he choked out, wrapping an arm around his chest in a self-hug. He heard an audible exhale from the other end as his eyes finally began to clear.

 _"I'm really proud of you, Michael. You've done so well after everything..."_ Henry murmured gently. _"You're so strong. Bearing an adult's responsibility like this. You're still a kid. Don't forget that, okay? Be a teenager. Don't turn into all the monotonous grumps you see at the office,"_ he added, a hint of cheekiness in his voice.

Michael chuckled with his roughened voice, half-choking through the slowing tears as he smiled. "I won't. They're all too cynical anyway," he mumbled slyly. He heard Henry laugh softly on the other end. 

_"Aint that the truth. Unhappy snobs, the lot of them."_ The man sighed. _"Do you need to talk to me about anything else, Mike?"_ He asked kindly.

"Not right now...maybe later though," the boy replied, his smile fading slightly. 

_"That's okay. Why don't you give me a call tomorrow night?"_

"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

_"I'll plan on you. I'm glad you called, Mike. You're a brave kid, you know that?"_

The boy chuckled again, shrugging to himself. "I guess if you call phoning a friend at midnight 'brave', then yeah, I fit the bill."

 _"It does because of the situation. And don't think I didn't catch that sarcasm there, young man,"_ Henry added with faked sternness, causing an impish grin to tug at Michael's mouth. "It never gets by ya. I'll call you tomorrow...thanks for picking up," he trailed off, a mixture of guilt and gratitude stirring in his chest.

_"Anytime, Michael. Get some rest."_

"I will. Good night."

_"Good night."_

_CLICK_

Michael sighed, putting the phone back on the table. He stood, arms wrapped around themselves protectively as he silently walked back to the stairs. He hadn't realized how much he had missed Henry, but after hanging up, he felt himself desperately wishing he had stayed. Wishing that their families hadn't had to be separated. 

Sure, William was his dad, but Henry was the next closest thing, more like an uncle than a family friend. When his father was busy-as he often was-Mike would go to Mr. Emily for pretty much anything he needed. Advice, help, questions...

There were even times where Henry came to _him._ In times of loneliness or guilt, he was a constant support and comfort. Especially after Chris' death where William had turned away from his remaining son, Henry had stepped up and offered consolation and sympathy, despite what the boy had done. Michael felt like he had deserved his solitude and separation from everyone else for his crime, but Henry kept telling him otherwise.

As Michael crept through the hallway to his bedroom, a gentle smile tugged at his lips. No matter what came next, he knew he'd at least have one adult to rely on. But he sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to need further support. 

He didn't know how much more tragedy he could take.


	28. I can't believe what you did!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Lament by MiatriSs!

He couldn't force his arms to move. It had taken all his energy to walk downstairs to the kitchen and he didn't have enough left to just grab the mug in front of him. How frustrating.

William stared forward; vision unfocused as he gazed at the untouched cup of coffee Clara had made him. Two weeks. Elizabeth died two weeks ago, and he was still like this. So... catatonic. So helpless. So hopelessly immovable.

He sighed. Clara had left to finish some police statements at the station, taking Michael with her as he had yet to give his full testimony. But they should be home soon...it was nearly ten-thirty and they'd been there for over two hours. Probably a good thing they had left him. The guilt had been tearing him apart and he'd suffered two breakdowns already in their absence.

Not that he didn't deserve it. Even he knew that. He couldn't even tell them the truth.

No. If he did that, then all hope for saving Chris would be dashed to pieces and they'd have lost not only him and Elizabeth, but the father and provider of the family as well. This was for the greater good. That's what he kept telling himself.

So, as far as the police were concerned, Elizabeth's death had been a freak accident. A malfunction with the animatronic that killed her. It wasn't _all_ a lie exactly...he never intended for his daughter to die or to be put in a situation where she'd be in danger. But he should have listened to his instincts and never have brought that _thing_ to the restaurant. It was the most dangerous. It was the most enticing. He shouldn't have given in. He should have just told her no.

Her death was, in essence, a freak accident. By his own twisted design.

William sat there, contemplating what to do. He didn't want to do it...didn't want to check on it to make sure...

But if he didn't and she was there, he would be making everything worse for himself and for her. But if he did, would he be able to handle the result of his actions?

Now that she was gone too, he of course wanted to give her the same thing he was trying to give Chris, but not in the mangled form of that death-machine he made. It'd tear her sweet and bright spirit apart, make her different from the Elizabeth he knew before. But if he tried to rectify his mistake...

There'd be no bringing her back. Ever.

William grit his teeth in frustration. Nevermind his selfish fears. He had to go. He had to check. The man stood, taking his coat and car keys from their respective hooks as he stepped out into the garage. He climbed into his car and backed out, turning to the direction of Circus Baby's...Rentals. That's what it was now. No more Circus Baby's Pizza World. That was part of the legal agreement.

The man's hands tightened on the wheel as he made a right turn. No longer allowed to let the restaurant operate, but sure, rentals for private parties were free game. Was the law enforcement here daft?

It didn't matter in the long run anyhow. They should be more docile now that they had served their purpose. Unless, of course, the souls inside them decided to revolt. But if they did, he wouldn't care. Maybe he would have before Elizabeth died, but now, he couldn't find himself caring for much of anything.

William turned into the parking lot and eased into a stall before taking his building keys from his pocket. Echoes of his fight with Clara once again rang loudly in his mind as he jammed the keys into the lock.

_"How long, Will?! How long will it be until another 'accident' happens?! Who will die next? Michael? Me? You? This is madness! These things have done nothing but hurt us these past months! We need to give it up!"_

He grit his teeth, fumbling with the lock until finally he got the door open. He slammed it behind him with more force than necessary as he walked through the ghostly dark and silent pizzeria to the elevator.

_"Clara-"_

_"No! You don't get to fight me on this! These things are dangerous; I don't care what you say! I won't lose another son and I won't lose you! This has to stop!"_

The elevator reached the bottom, doors sliding open quietly as William stepped out and headed to his workshop. His shoes clicked almost threateningly on the tile as he strode down the darkened hallway. He scratched at his arm, fingering the bandages that needed to be changed.

Yet another lie. He was never injured; the wraps were purely to hide the gathering track marks littering his wrist. He was beginning to be able to handle higher dosages of remnant, but since Elizabeth’s accident, he hadn’t taken any. Maybe the more recent marks would be faded by now. In any case, he felt closer to finding the amount necessary for Chris.

William turned into a doorframe and into his workshop. Metal pieces and animatronic parts were scattered throughout the room; not keeping with his usual organized demeanor. But, when you lose a kid, you feel the urge to throw things. Tools were just in reach. And he had been too distraught to put anything away.

He walked past metal shelves to the back of the workshop. Baby had initially been confiscated but returned to him days earlier. She had promptly been placed here and left alone. But now…

He came nearer, coming to stand in front of the deactivated robot. She was leaned against the wall with that permanent smile plastered on her face, frozen and shrouded in shadow. Just like he left her.

William gazed at her for a moment, silently watching with a frown tugging at his lips. His own monster. His fault.

He leaned behind the robot and flipped on a switch, watching as the animatronic straightened, the pins at its arms and sides sticking out somewhat as she began to move. She immediately resumed her performance routine, turning her head and singing for a non-existent audience.

Now that he was here, he didn’t know what to do. How was he to check? Last time he had just left the bodies there long enough for the soul and mechanical parts to bind, but Elizabeth had been in this thing for less than ten minutes.

Well. The man began to examine the robot, looking for anything out of the ordinary. All the functions were the same, everything was working as programmed. The hair was fine, limbs secure…

His gaze moved up to Baby’s face and froze.

His heart stopped.

Instead of looking up into those glassy blue eyes, he gazed upon…green. Beautiful, shamrock green. As alive and as bright as Elizabeth’s, with gentle dark streaks lined near the pupil. They were unmistakably identical.

William felt his hands begin to shake, then the rest of his body erupted in tremors as he sank to his knees. No…no, no, _no,_ this wasn’t supposed to happen, not to her! If she had died in some other way, he would have built a form perfect for her programmed without malicious intent, but she was stuck inside this monster, this thing created for destruction, and he _knew_ it would strip her of her kind and innocent spirit!

He clutched his head in furious frustration, slamming a fist to the ground in anger. He barely registered the pain as a rageful growl tore from his throat. _Stupid,_ he was so _stupid,_ he could have prevented this-now his daughter might suffer a fate worse than death.

The man looked up meekly from the floor at the still-moving robot. He slowly got to his feet, reaching around behind Baby's back to flip off the switch.

"I don't know if you can hear me, Elizabeth. I am so...sorry. I'm going to fix this. I'll fix you. I promise. It might just take some time, okay sweetheart?" He whispered. He reached a hand up to the animatronic's face and cradled its cheek in his hand. 

_"I'm so sorry."_

The robot's hazed eyes stared forward past him, lifeless. Like she wasn't listening. William had no idea if Elizabeth was conscious in there, but he hoped she was now just to know her father was here...or maybe not, now that she knew the dark nature of the animatronic she had loved so much. Maybe she hated him now. He didn't know. And he didn't want to think about it.

But for now...

He had to extinguish his anger. And he was going to do it in the best way he knew how.

 _Dave_ was due for a trip to Freddy's.


	29. Poll! Come give your feedback!

POLL!!

In the scope of FNAF Lore, do you view Clara as dead _or_ divorced? May or may not influence an upcoming chapter. ;)


	30. *cough cough* this is your fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for your input on my poll a few days ago, definitely helped me gauge what you all wanted for dear Clara. Welp, here's your result!
> 
> In other news, as I was writing this chapter, fuhnaff posted a video (if you don't know who that is, look him up, he's great) and we finally have a name for the Crying Child, and news flash, it ain't Chris. Go check it out ;)
> 
> So, the question I have now is: should I go back and change Chris' name? I feel obligated to do so and honestly prefer his real name, but I'd like to hear what you all have to say about that. Anyway, enough of my rambling, enjoy the chapter!
> 
> FNAF Song of the day: The Show Must Go On by MandoPony!

William shuffled wearily into the house, shutting the garage door behind him. He didn't notice Clara sitting at the barstools with her hands and elbows on the counter clutching a mug of milk until she had turned her head to him. He was really out of it.

"Where were you?" The woman asked, a frown pulling at her lips, eyes tired with near bruises under them from her lack of sleep, but her voice held a very alert, almost dangerous tone. "Out." Replied William simply as he walked moodily into the kitchen.

"That's it? _Out?_ " Clara questioned, a poison-laced lilt in her voice. The man didn't answer, moving to the cupboard, taking a glass cup from it. "You're doing it again," his wife continued, crossing her arms with narrowed eyes.

"Doing _what_ again?" William murmured darkly as he walked to the sink, filling the cup with tap-water. 

"You're not talking to me. It's like-it's like _Chris_ all over again, you won't tell me what's running through your head, I _know_ you're hiding things _-again!_ " Clara retorted angrily, standing from her seat.

The man listened to his wife's remarks, grip on the cup tightening dangerously as a furious shiver ran up his spine. His eyes flashed her direction as a scowl pulled at his mouth. " _Oh?_ Is that so?" He hissed, gritting his teeth.

The woman's eyes narrowed. "It _is,_ and you won't-" she began, cutting herself off as her gaze flittered down to the man's bare arm. "What...are those...?" She whispered, expression falling into confusion and shock as she pointed a lithe finger towards his forearm.

William looked down. A sudden feeling of panic flittered through him as he saw the half-dozen or so track marks littering his wrist as white scars. He swore under his breath, heartbeat quickening as he hurriedly pulled his sleeve over his arm. He had forgotten to rebandage it.

"Will? Will, _look_ at me! _William!"_ Clara shouted, fear and angered exasperation evident in her tone. The man reluctantly turned his eyes her direction, a scowl written in his features as his hands clutched the edge of the sink, white-knuckled. "You don't get to pretend I didn't see that! What in heaven's name is going on-what have you been _doing_ to yourself?!" The woman cried, hysteria growing in her voice as she wildly motioned in the man's direction.

"It's nothing. Forget it," William snapped, glaring down into the sink. His wife laughed humorlessly, shaking her head furiously. "Right! Obviously that's what I should do! Who knows what else you've been up to-whatever _that_ was!" The woman shouted in exasperation. She pulled a hand over her face, inhaling deeply.

"William, this isn't working, I can't keep-I can't..."

The man peered her direction, guilt twisting in his chest at the sight of his wife trembling, obviously trying not to break down into sobs. He wanted to go to her, wanted to pull her into his arms, wanted to comfort her and make everything better, but couldn't force his body to move. Deep down he knew that that likely wasn't the best thing to do right now anyway. It was his fault she was having a breakdown as it was.

Clara inhaled, breath hitching from trying to repress her sobs. She sniffled, folding her arms around her waist as she looked back at her husband, eyes red. "How can I help you if you won't trust me?" She whispered.

Those words hit William like a truck. He almost spoke the thoughts in his mind-I do trust you, I do-but he knew it was wrong. He had been lying for months-if he had just told her the pains and sufferings of his heart after Chris' death...

He looked her direction, gaze falling slightly as his expression melted from the scowl into one of realization. But he gave her no answer.

"Great. Fine. I get it, Will." The woman muttered, more to herself than to him as she wiped her eyes with one hand, turning as she began to walk from the kitchen. "W-Where are you going?" William croaked, one hand pulling her direction.

"I'm going for a drive. I need to clear my head," she replied monotonously, grabbing her coat and keys from the hooks in the mudroom. William said nothing more as he heard the garage door open and close with force.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Later that evening..._

Michael came out of his room, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Afternoon naps could either be rejuvenating or completely perfect for throwing off your gauge of reality. Had he really been asleep long enough for the sun to no longer reach his window? In any case, his heart nearly jumped out of his chest at the sudden change of scenery after he had awoken. Utterly ridiculous.

The boy walked down the stairs to the living room, noticing how quiet the house was. Partially due to having fewer people of course, but...something didn't feel right.

The teen looked around, eyes catching his father slumped over his arms at the counter, sound asleep. Guess he wasn't the only one in need of a nap that day. But no sign of his mother.

He crept to the kitchen, trying not to arouse Dad as he opened the fridge door, taking a juice packet from inside it. When he turned around, the man had begun to stir and he tried to hurry from the room, but not quickly enough as his father groggily raised his head from arms. Blinking hazel eyes caught the boy. 

"Hey, Mike," the man murmured, voice lower and raspier from sleep. "Hi, Dad," the teen whispered. "Where's Mama?"

The dim light in the man's eyes seemed to darken slightly as he sighed. "She went for a drive. I'm sure-" he started, stopping as his eyes turned to the clock on the microwave. "She left nearly four hours ago..." he murmured, though Michael could hear the concern in his voice. "I just woke up. She might be here," the boy offered.

His father nodded, getting to his feet. "I'll go look for her." Michael took a sip of his juice-pack as he watched the man shuffle down the hallway towards their bedroom. 

A few minutes after their talk, the boy witnessed William moving from room to room, calling his wife's name and a startling panic began growing in the teen's stomach. He couldn't imagine why he was feeling this way, his mom was fine, there was no reason he should be freaking out. Overreacting, that's all.

He thought for a moment, sucking out the remaining contents from the pack. If mama had gone for a drive, then seeing if the car was back was key to seeing if she was even home.

The boy stood, setting the empty juice-box on the counter as he walked to the garage door. He opened it, and the first thing he noticed was that the car was indeed here, but the driver door was wide open. Odd. The garage itself was closed, but something about the air just seemed...off. 

Michael took a step into the garage, looking around before spotting a pale hand on the ground on the other side of the driver door. Wait-that was...mom's hand-

The boy rushed over. His mother was sprawled on the floor, a small puddle of blood under her head. She must have fallen, but the impact didn't look bad. Michael gently took her shoulders and shook her. "Mama-Mama, wake up," he said, trying to arouse her from her sleep. She didn't even stir. In fact, the boy realized she didn't really appear to be asleep at all...and why was she so pale?

And another thing-the car was running. What was going on?

Suddenly, the shout of his father pulled him from his thoughts. "Michael!" It called. The boy whipped around to see his father standing in the doorway, with widened eyes. "Get out of there, _now!"_ William yelled, fear and panic subtly lacing his words. At his commanding tone, the teen jumped to his feet, rushing back to the house. "Dad, Mama's-" he tried to say, but was cut off as his father grabbed his shoulder and hurriedly pulled him inside, slamming a fist onto the garage opener as he pulled the door closed after them with a loud slam.

Michael's heart was racing. What was happening, what-what was going on? "Dad, Mama, she needs help, she hit her head," he pleaded, looking up at the man. William wasn't looking at him, gaze concentrated forward towards the garage. "Dad? Dad, what's going on?" The boy questioned frantically, hearing the panic in his own voice. 

"Carbon monoxide," the man answered simply, chest heaving. "What?" Michael asked, confused. His father didn't answer for a moment, swallowing harshly. "You said she hit her head?" He whispered. The boy nodded. "I couldn't get her to wake up."

The man visibly shuddered, eyes closing as he finally withdrew the hand on Michael's shoulder. He watched as William walked around the counter and moved to the phone, hurriedly dialing a number into it.

He raised the phone to his ear, saying nothing for a moment. "Poison control?" He asked, voice wavering. Michael felt his heart drop into his stomach. _No-_

"We need assistance, immediately-yes, please, hurry," William said, a mix of a demanding urgency and broken hopelessness in his voice. The boy could see tears threatening to break at his father's eyes and then, all Michael's being went cold. 

He swayed, knees suddenly weak. He felt dizzy-not just from panic and fear, but some other external force. As he was on the verge of falling with nothing to grab onto, William caught sight of the boy and dropped the phone, running his way just in time to prevent him from going head-first into the tile.

"Mike-Michael," the man began to say, brushing a hand through the boy's bangs as he gently held the teen on his lap. "Don't...feel so good," Michael murmured. It felt like an uncomfortable pressure was building in his head. Nausea began to stir in his stomach, but the worst part was the overwhelming confusion. All at once, nothing began to make sense, and the boy tried to focus on William's face as the edges of his vision began to darken.

"Michael, stay with me here-Mike? _Mike!"_ His father's voice called. 

But the more he spoke, the quieter he seemed to become as Michael slowly dipped into darkness.


	31. well, that's unfortunate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: My Love by NightCove_theFox!

Wow.

If Michael thought getting beat up by a bunch of punks in the name of protecting his sister was bad, then this was something else. 

The _pounding,_ the incessant _pounding._ It was like an unyielding berating in his skull, constantly sending waves of pain through his head. And man, it hurt. The boy groaned, trying to raise a hand to clutch the source of the throbbing, but couldn't find the strength to move his arm. Blearily, he began to blink, pulling out of the darkness into overwhelming light.

Michael's eyes burned at the sudden brightness; face scrunching at the drastic change as he squinted upwards. Everything was blindingly white...where was he? As he tried to take in his surroundings, a hand settled onto his shoulder, causing him to flinch slightly.

"Mike?" A voice on his side said slightly. "Are you awake?"

The boy groaned in response, recognizing the voice to belong to his father. He tried to sit up but felt two large hands on his shoulders firmly but gently push him back to the bed he laid on. "Ah ah, don't do that," the man said in concern. "The nurse won't want you up yet."

_Nurse?_

"Dad, where are we?" Michael asked, voice raspy and choked. There was an audible sigh. "The ER," his father replied simply. "Why-Dad, what happened, why am I-?" The boy began, cutting himself off, suddenly aware of the mask on his face. He raised a hand to it, feeling the thick plastic cup of an oxygen mask. He knew that's what it was, having seen Chris in one months ago.

"You got exposed to a high concentration of carbon monoxide and passed out. You were having a hard time breathing..." his father trailed off. Michael could feel the hand on his shoulder squeeze as the man spoke. "How? And what about Mama, is she okay?"

There was no reply.

"Dad?"

"Michael, your mother died hours ago."

The response was flat and dead-sounding, and its emotion-less tone scared the boy almost as much as the words themselves did. That feeling, one that was becoming much too familiar was coursing through the teen's veins. His heart began beating quicker and quicker, mind seeming to double over in shock and panic. This had to be another nightmare, this had to just be some sick twisted imagination that he'd be waking from soon, it had to be-

"She had been gone for a long while when you found her, Michael." The boy finally managed to turn his head and make his eyes look anywhere but the ceiling, darting to where he saw his father leaned over in a chair by his bed. The hand on his shoulder had moved over his wrist, but he felt little strength in it. His dad's eyes were red and tired, face expressionless save for the tense anguish written in it.

"What-What are you talking about?" Michael whispered. The man at his side swallowed deeply, exhaling with a shuddering breath. "You remember the car running in the garage when you found her?" He asked. The teen nodded. "It had been going for nearly four hours. Your mother...it appears that she had been preparing to leave, but forgot something-likely her purse, you know she never leaves without it." The boy nodded again.

"She likely had been trying to come back in to get it, but tripped somehow. She hit her head." The man continued. Michael recalled the small amount of blood on the garage floor and his mother-pale as a sheet-laying motionless. He felt his own face drain of color.

"She was unconscious in the closed garage with the car running. Do you know the dangers of that, Michael?" His father asked, a slight break in his voice. The boy just turned his increasingly widening eyes his direction, mouth falling agape. "Doing so makes the space fill with carbon monoxide. It's effectively poisonous air."

Michael felt his breath catch in his throat. "It only takes a few minutes for it to take effect, and without relief, it...becomes deadly," the man continued. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Michael?" He asked, voice dropping low and quiet. The boy nodded, feeling the increasingly familiar burn in his eyes as his vision began to blur.

"So...it's just us now..." the teen whispered, voice betraying the lump in his throat. His father did nothing for a moment before nodding slightly. Michael swallowed, shakily closing his eyes as a stray tear broke free and ran down his cheek. _"Why does it have to be our family?"_ He spoke, barely audible to hear as his eyes opened, allowing more liquid to spill down his face. The man at his side said nothing, jaw clenching.

For a few minutes, neither said anything until William stood. "I'll go get the nurse. If everything is alright with you now, we'll go home," he spoke flatly, voice carrying only the cracked sound of a sob-racked throat. Michael nodded, watching him leave the room.

What was he to do now?

There was nothing...nothing for him. Everything about his existence seemed to scream that a happy life simply wasn't meant to be. Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be their family?

He had to be cursed. That was the only explanation at this point, right? Some sick, twisted curse, and for what? A life of misery. Maybe because of what he did to Chris, he deserved it. Maybe that's what it was. Punishment.

Well, at this point.

He was going to accept it.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

William gently ran a hand through Michael's hair as he slept, stealing a glance out his bedroom window as he set a bottle of medication on his nightstand-for headaches from the hospital. He quietly left the room, closing the door behind him before walking out to the car. 

The drive to the his rental was timeless and contemplative in feeling, but William knew what he was doing. At least, he hoped he did. He pulled into the parking lot and stopped, circling around his vehicle to gently carry a wrapped form out and inside the building.

The elevator fan whirred loudly above him, but he didn't really register the noise. When it reached the bottom level, he stepped out, trying not to jostle his cargo. He walked quietly down the hall to a secondary workshop, where he opened the door and the sight of a large metal table greeted him. A large metal form lay atop it, eyes closed.

The man went inside, pausing before he set the wrapped person in his arm next to it with upmost gentleness. He adjusted one of the wrappings carefully, eyes turning to the robot beside Clara. This was the form for her. At least, it would be, if all went accordingly.

He wasn't sure if what he was doing was right, but...

What else was there to do now?

William sighed, placing a shaky hand on the woman's bandaged brow. "Clara..." he spoke quietly, guilt twisting inside him painfully. "I am so sorry. All of this is my fault. Elizabeth, you...I wish I had just told you how I felt after Chris. I wish so badly that I hadn't pulled away from you. I know you were suffering too, and that you needed me. I needed you too."

A single tear spilled from his eye as he breathed. "I broke your trust. And I hid things from you in my effort to reclaim what we had lost, but in the process, I made us lose our daughter, and now, I've lost you. I've messed up so bad it's not even laughable. But I'm going to make it right, okay?"

William looked down at the still form that was his wife, a twisted feeling of despair growing through him as another tear fell. "I'm going to fix this. I promise I will. I'm going to...I'm going to have to hurt more people to do it, but you'll see, in the end it will all have been worth it. I'm going to save our family, and then we can be together again."

The man sighed before withdrawing his hand. Despite his words, it all felt like empty promises somehow, even in the face of everything he had done and all the work that he put forward to accomplishing his goals. 

But he had to try...

He was too far in now, anyway. There was no turning back.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Henry breathed deeply, tiredness pulling at his eyes as he tried to finish the paperwork at his desk. He just couldn't concentrate, despite it only being half-past eleven. Maybe it was time to turn in for the night...

Suddenly, the phone near him began to ring, making him jump in his seat. Goodness, that really woke his senses. The man shook his head, grabbing the phone. "Hello?" He spoke, trying to drive away the sleepiness in his tone.

_"Henry, it's Dana."_

"Oh, hello, Dana. Is everything alright?" He asked, eyes opening just a little wider.

 _"Uh...well, did you get my message two weeks ago?"_ She questioned sheepishly. "Oh, yes, I did-I meant to ring you back actually," Henry answered, drawing a hand over his face in exasperation. "I apologize."

 _"It's fine. Have you...seen any sign of Charlie?"_ She asked. "I have not, unfortunately. Yourself?" The man replied, hands grazing the papers on his desk. _"Actually, I have,"_ the woman said. Henry stilled, head raising slightly at her words.

 _"She's visited my house three times since I left my message. She doesn't talk much, but she keeps telling me that she has a 'mission' and that it's up to her and she doesn't want us to get hurt. She won't tell me much else, but said she was going to bring me something for us next time she came,"_ Dana continued.

Henry's mouth fell agape and he couldn't muster a response as he ran a hand through his hair. "You're telling me she's been _visiting_ you? Why didn't you call earlier?" He questioned, trying to keep the demanding tone out of his voice to remain kind in his demeanor.

 _"Well, uh...she asked me not to until last night when she came again. I think she didn't want you freaking out too much, if you know what I mean,"_ the woman replied sheepishly, voice static-y over the phone. "That does sound like her..." Henry trailed off, collapsing onto the back of his chair. "When will she be returning?"

_"She never says. But lately it's been every five days or so, so probably sometime next week."_

"Okay. Please call me as soon as she does," Henry asked, exhaustion drawing over him more at this new-found information.

 _"I will. Sorry about all this mayhem,"_ Dana added with a humorless chuckle. "Don't apologize; none of it is because of you. I'm just glad she's going to someone," the man replied, eyes glancing up to his calendar on the wall, scanning the upcoming dates.

 _"Yeah, I guess that's a good thing. I'll talk to you soon, then,"_ the woman spoke lightly. "Yes...thank you, Dana," Henry replied.

_"Sure thing. Bye, then."_

"Goodnight."

_CLICK_

Goodness, this child of his was going to give him a heart failure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! I tell you what, coming up with Clara's death was one of the hardest things I've had to do for this book; I just couldn't think of what I wanted to do. I originally was going to have her die in a car crash after she left, but an inspiration lightning-bolt struck me and I decided, hey, let's do that thing my parents always warned me not to do cuz wHy NoT
> 
> Anyhow, I wanted to CLARAfy a few things (I'm losing it in case ya can't tell)-one, William had ZERO involvement in her death unless you count spurring on her emotional breakdown in the kitchen that motivated her to leave on the drive that never ended up happening anyway. Second, she did not commit suicide. Purely a tragic accident. Well...I think that wraps up most of the questions and misunderstandings I was picking up...
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for checking in, I appreciate it. See y'all next chapter!


	32. happiest day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahaha, guess who almost couldn't finish her promised edits because her internet died
> 
> THIS GIRL!
> 
> But we're here now. anyway. there were supposed to be flashbacks for insight in the next chapter, but it soon became obvious that they should be included in this one. that plus minor detail alterations. this is a brutal chapter, if you choose to read, please stop if you ever feel uncomfortable. really.
> 
> WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER, PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!
> 
> I MEAN IT!!!
> 
> FNAF Song of the Day: It's Me by TryHardNinja!

It wasn't his shift today, but it didn't matter. William unlocked the back door to Freddy's and slipped inside, noticing the lack of employees today. Allan was becoming more and more lax as the days here passed. 

His hands were shaking as he passed through to an employee closet. Everything, every shrivel of sense and morality (little though there was, now) was trying its hardest to pull his mind and will from what he was about to do. The parent in him was overbearing in its objection.

But the increasing darkness was supreme, now. It was terrifyingly compelling, complete in its control. He knew he was too far in to this evil now, and it was all-consuming.

Now, he was here. He couldn't give any excuse. This wasn't to save his children, this wasn't to rectify the events befalling his family, this was feeding the darkness. And nothing within him was strong enough to stop it. Clara was dead. Elizabeth was dead. Chris was dead. All would never forgive him for what he'd done, and he knew it. They wouldn't _have_ to know.

The very thought sent a shudder through the man. The monster inside him was festering in the wake of this newfound tragedy and loss, its maliciousness becoming stronger, and now, he was powerless against the entity of evil he had created within himself. And now, it wanted blood. It was in control, now. A terrible contrast of despair and horrific excitement was entwining inside, the father versus the monster. And he knew who was winning at the moment.

It was a good thing Michael was away from all this. The hospital visit two days ago was still taking a toll on him and he was more than content to be home alone while William was away, unaware of what the trip was meant for. The further away his remaining child was from this evil, the easier it'd be to block out what he'd think of it all. 

Guilt and blood-lust malice twisted inside like a horrible snake. 

He wanted to stop before it was too late.

But the monster's will was dominant. 

Abysmally dominant.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mangle was definitely the weirdest thing at Freddy's. Definitely. Why kids like Jordan were allowed anywhere near it was baffling if not downright idiotic. There were so many cogs and stray wires sharp enough to cut fingers if you weren't careful. Then again, the entire building seemed to be falling into a state of disarray. Twice, Jordan had found small puddles in corners and unused party rooms created from water dripping from the ceiling. That among other things.

The boy stood from where he had sat next to Mangle, bored as he strayed into the hallway. Four of his friends were sitting on the tile, taking turns sliding Mary's new toy cars down the corridor; a birthday gift courtesy of her grandparents. "Hey, J," Mary greeted as Jordan knelt in between her and Shannon. 

"Who's winning?" He asked as Chase ran down the hallway to retrieve the cars. "Joseph," she replied casually as the toys were passed out and sent speeding down the tile again. They clattered against the opposite walls and obstacles in their way, only two making it all the way to the end of the corridor. 

"Hah!" Joseph whooped, raven hair bouncing around his hair as he jumped to his feet, hurrying to re-collect them. "You're so good at this it's not even fair," Shannon huffed, crossing her arms.

"You're only losing 'cause you're a girl," Chase retorted, only to let out a cry of pain as the girl clapped him on the back of his head. 

"Maybe, but she sure doesn't hit like one," Jordan snickered as Chase rubbed his neck with a scowl on his face. "Got that right," the boy muttered while Shannon grinned at him smugly. Mary gathered the cars, shoving them into her dress pocket, standing. "I'm done with racing. You guys got any other ideas?" She asked.

"Not really. The robots are pretty dumb. The old ones were better," Chase remarked, leaning against the wall, running a hand through his red hair. "What else is there to do, then?" Shannon asked, standing next to him. 

"I dunno, but I'm bored," Jordan grumbled.

"Well, maybe you kids want to check out the premium party room," a low voice offered. 

The kids' heads all turned the direction of the sound to see a tall man leaning against the doorframe of a darkened room a few doors down, arms folded casually. He was obviously an employee, wearing black slacks and a deep purple dress-shirt with a badge titled 'Dave', but the odd thing was that he was wearing a golden rabbit head, one obviously from a mascot suit.

"I'm sorry?" Asked Mary politely. The man pushed off the doorframe, arms still crossed. "We've got a premium room not in use right now...stocked with snacks and whatnot, if you kids are interested," he drawled, stepping nearer. 

The girl looked at the others, eyes meeting Jordan's for a moment. "Won't we get in trouble if it's a room we didn't rent?" She questioned lightly. "You would. I would not," the man replied. "So long as you're with me, the heat'll be off you."

"That's pretty generous, mister," Chase added skeptically. "Too generous, isn't it?" The boy continued with a raised eyebrow. 

"I'm bored and I know you are too," the man quipped knowingly. "And I'm not sure about you punks, but a little mischievousness and risk always make activities more _interesting._ " At that, Chase's mouth twitched upwards into an impish smirk. "Got that right," he said, stealing a glance at the others. "You know what, we'll come," he said, pushing off the wall. 

"Hold on-" Joseph started, a reluctant look on his face. "Come on man, what else are we gonna do? Play in the ball-pit with the five-year olds?" Chase retorted with a snort, turning the direction the man was backing towards. "He has a point, Joe," Mary shrugged, though she too seemed somewhat wary as she followed Shannon and Chase down the hallway. 

Joseph tapped his fingers together nervously, biting his lip as he snuck a glance back towards the main-room. "...Fine," he muttered, brushing past Jordan as he pursued the girls. "You coming, J?" He questioned lightly. "I guess," the boy replied, stepping away from the wall.

They walked quietly down the corridor, following the man into a room at the end of the hall. Chase's impressed whistle rang out in the space as they went inside, door closing behind them. The room was much cleaner than the rest of the building and had shelves littered with party hats, favors, candy, packaged pastries, and an assortment of other related items. 

Jordan walked closer to the back of the room were a pin-the-hat-on-Fredbear poster was hung up. He grinned casually, turning around with an eyebrow raised. "Anyone wanna play?" He joked, gaze turning to the man who was standing behind his friends. "It'll be so much fun. You know where the pins are, right?"

The man's demeanor and stance seemed to darken, and Jordan felt a flicker of unwarranted fear. 

"Right."

Suddenly, the man's arm lunged forward, plunging into Shannon's back. She let out a scream that turned Jordan's stomach, sounding like her voice were being torn from her throat. 

The boy's eyes widened as he watched his friend fall, rasping to the floor. 

"But I think this'll be more fun," the man spoke lowly, turning the knife in his hand. Joseph, who was near him, tried to back away, only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled roughly to the employee. Before he had the chance to cry out, the blade connected with his throat. He fell next to Shannon, red seeping from his wound. 

Mary was sobbing at this point. Jordan was beyond mortified, adrenaline and shock coursing through him madly. His mind couldn't process what was happening, not registering that Chase was muttering instructions anxiously into his and his friend's ears. Chase's yell of "NOW!" broke through the ringing in his head as the boy charged at the man on the other side of the room.

Chase's arm hooked back for a punch and he swung, but the attack was easily blocked by the employee's hand, giving Mary the chance to sprint towards the door. "Jordan, _go!_ " Chase yelled, but the boy couldn't force his legs to move. The girl tried to make it to the exit in the commotion, but the man, seeing her attempt, shoved the red-head away to reach an arm out before she could run past him. 

His hand caught her by the throat, the sudden stop causing the girl's legs to swing in front of her as he slammed her onto one of the metal tables. Her small fingers grabbed at his large ones, trying to pry them away as she gasped for breath. 

"You kids are really making this more lively than usual," the man chuckled as he breathed heavily. "The last group wasn't nearly this fiery," he continued, mouth turning upwards into a half-smile as he pulled the mascot head off. His black hair fell over his left eye as his gaze flickered down to Mary, who was twitching and trying to pull out of his grip as her skin went from red to purple. 

"Let her go!" Chase yelled, scrambling to his feet, preparing to charge the employee. He stopped abruptly the man held out a hand in a 'stopping' gesture. 

" _Ah, ah, ah..._ " the man cooed. "Make those sudden moves again and the birthday girl gets it."

"Like you're not going to hurt her anyway," Chase snarled. 

The man put a finger to his chin and tapped it in mocking thought. "You know what-you're right," he agreed, turning suddenly, raising the knife. The boy cried out in protest as the blade plunged downward into the girl's ribs. She couldn't muster a scream, eyes rolling back into her head. 

Chase let out a strangled cry, rushing forward as he collided into the man's torso. He grunted, stumbling back a few steps, but he didn't fall. Instead, he grabbed the boy by his wrist, twisting it violently. The boy yelped in pain, pushed backward against one of the party room chairs as the man pressed harder. 

"S-Stop it!" Chase cried, tears streaming down his reddening cheeks. The employee considered him for a moment, head cocking slightly. "You know..." he started, finally releasing the boy's arm. The child instinctively curled over himself on his knees, clutching his injured arm to his chest as he tried to stop his sobs. 

"Fighters like you are fun to play with," the man continued. "But I get bored of you quickly." 

The boy stilled at those words, fearfully turning his head upwards. A blade shot forward, piercing him deeply. Chase sat frozen until it withdrew, slumping to his side while blood seeped out around him. 

The man's gaze slowly moved from the child at his feet to Jordan, who was leaning against the back wall looking rather sick. "But _quiet_ ones on the other hand..." he began softly, taking slow steps toward the boy. "The quiet ones are the specialones." He finished almost reverently.

Jordan was shaking terribly, breathing erratic. He flinched violently as he suddenly felt the man's hand gently stroke his cheek. The hand wouldn't leave, almost caressing like a father's touch should be. "What is it that keeps you so silent when all this happens around you?" The man questioned softly.

The boy bit his lip nervously, eyes shut. He felt the hand slide down his face to hook under his chin, forcing his head upwards gently. "Eyes open, if you please." He heard above him. Jordan obeyed reluctantly, blinking as bright light shined his way. 

"That's better," the man murmured, bringing the knife close to the boy's face. "But I would like to hear something from you before you die. Could you do that for me, kid?"

Jordan didn't respond. The man's eyes narrowed as he pierced the boy's cheek with the point of the knife, bringing it down to his jaw slowly. A whimper escaped the child as thick beads of blood bubbled from the cut, running down his face.

"Stop- _stop_ -why are you doing this? What do you want? I'll give it to you, just _please,_ let me go," he whispered with a choke in his voice. The man hesitated, chest rising and falling with his breathing. 

"What I want...you can't give me."

A sudden pain erupted in Jordan's chest, blackness consuming his vision. He vaguely felt himself falling to the ground before he lost all senses completely. 

...

William looked down at the boy on the tile, his eyes wide open, half curled up with blood puddling underneath him. He exhaled deeply.

The man walked to one of the shelves, retrieving some items from it. A mask was placed upon every childs' face, each one to correspond with the animatronics from the old Freddy's. Plus a Golden Freddy mask for Mary. The birthday girl.

It was her happiest day, after all.

It should've been.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Charlie flew through shadows and darkness, trying, _hurrying_ to get to Freddy's as fast as she could. She knew what was happening, she could feel it, and she was terrified that she'd be too late. _Again._

She blew past sidewalks and roads until she reached the building, frantically pulling herself through the vents the entwined the party rooms. She could sense that overwhelming evil as she pushed further through the metal shafts, finally finding the opening into the room where she could feel it emanating from. 

If she still had a heart, it would have stopped.

She didn't make it in time. 

The scene was awful. Crimson painted everywhere, the now dead children propped in the chairs around the table like set pieces. Each wore a mask with the eyes blackened, some with drying blood falling from their mouths and down their chins. Their positions were stiff, many with their heads slumped one way or another. If 'horror' had a picture in the dictionary, this would be it. 

Charlie shook her head in shock, tears streaming from her cold eyes. It had to _stop,_ this endless cycle had to stop, her little child heart couldn't take anymore violence. It was weighing in guilt on her spirit, tearing apart her innocence scene by scene. The sweet fragile soul she was was breaking under this evil.

It had happened again. And so, she prepared herself for what needed to come next. The girl shook, extending a clawed hand, ready to perform the same procedure she had done on the other victims, but stopped before she could manifest the power.

No. 

She couldn't. Not this time. She knew they would only be in agony waiting for vengeance, trapped in these cursed bodies. She knew that pain. She would not pass it on again.

Charlie sighed, watching the walls of the room darken into blackness. All else fell into grey and white, save the still-colored balloons floating motionlessly around them. The bodies at the tables changed from carnage-ridden children to untainted forms, all but one still wearing their masks. They turned to look at her, like they were waiting. 

Charlie went nearer, realizing that she no longer resembled the puppet form she had been trapped in. For a moment, she too would be a child again, wearing a mask like the others. 

The one without one, though-a brown-haired girl-looked Charlie's way, utmost sadness and despair written in her gaze. If she wasn't sure about her decision before, she knew now.

" _I'm sorry,_ " Charlie whispered, voice breaking. The others didn't speak, but it was obvious they all felt the way the brown-haired girl did. The air around them was blanketed in its deadness.

"It was supposed to be your happiest day."

Silence, still. 

"But I'm going to send you home. You won't be trapped here anymore. I'm going to let you go."

The girl was standing, now.

"We'll fix what happened here. You can all go to rest."

The girl was standing quite still, but a golden Fredbear mask now covered her face. Charlie felt her heart clench. But she could already feel the air lighten from its despairing hold. 

" _Go home,_ " Charlie whispered with a soft smile, a tear slipping over her porcelain cheek. A small light, and then the others gradually vanished, their masks falling gently to the floor where they had stood moments prior. 

Charlie stood silently, gazing at the abandoned party table.

This was her gift to them. Freedom. What she had bestowed upon herself and the others was more a curse than it was a chance at revenge. But after waiting and trying this long, she wasn't going to let them go unless they wanted to. She wouldn't let that suffering be in vain.

Now, her plan could begin.


	33. Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: We Know What Scares You by TryHardNinja!

Allan was hating life at the moment, but it wasn't hard to see why. He was closing Freddy's, this time for good. He had had enough of the police and enough of the sobbing parents, and he didn't know how to handle it anymore. He was never good at consoling anyone, let alone strangers, and it was even harder considering it was _his_ restaurant that everything had happened at. Again.

In all fairness, he was grateful that he was the one that stumbled upon that grisly scene...he could only imagine the sort of uproar that would have happened had it been a parent or one of his young employees. But he certainly wasn't grateful for all those cursed images running on replay in his head. So much blood...

There was little doubt in his mind that he was not intended to be a Fazbear Entertainment franchisee. Second incident in less than a year, and this one had him pinned in more ways than one. Now a suspect in this murder case, he was spending a lot more time with cops than he'd like. They found it incredibly interesting that no security cameras were on when the usually were, and now the animatronics were acting funny and not even Dave knew what was wrong with them.

Just great.

Not to mention he had to let all of his employees go. Even the good ones. Everything was going to blue blazes here.

Allan sighed, thumping his head on his desk in frustration. Everything was to be shut down in a little less than two weeks...that should give everyone enough time to come get their crap and get out so he could close for good. But until then, there was only one more party scheduled and there were some things to be moved out-nothing too drastic.

The man signed some of the remaining severance documents laying on his desk, feeling sleep tugging at his eyes. He didn't have the energy for this...what he needed was a good stiff drink and a permanent vacation...maybe he'd just do that. Out of Utah. Florida could be nice...

Anywhere away from here. Freddy's was going down a heck-hole he wasn't willing to follow anymore.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Papers lay scattered on Dana's kitchen table, most mail, others backup resumes and job offers. Her severance package was on the far end of the surface (not that it was a very good one), away from the rest of the mess. Dana herself was sitting at her counter, holding an undrunk glass of water. 

She was taking this situation hard, but not as hard as Henry obviously was. They both felt the guilt of the murders terribly, but Henry seemed to think he was somehow at fault, no matter what she said to convince him otherwise. Not like he held the knife that took their lives.

The woman exhaled shallowly, feeling exhausted on all fronts. She hadn't felt this worn out since moving out of her dad's place, and that was saying something. The couple who's basement she lived in was aware of the situation and thankfully was knocking off a lot of the cost for this month's rent, but it wasn't really easing her nerves. 

Dana sighed, eyes closing. She was perfectly ready to doze off right here, right now...

Until a light tap came at the window. 

The woman sat up suddenly, water sloshing from the glass as she turned around. Despite the drawn curtains, there was only one person who ever knocked like that. 

Dana stood, hurrying to the window, pulling the drapery out of the way. The darkness mostly concealed her visitor, but two faint white lights could be seen just on the other side. The woman unlocked the window door, easing the panes open for Charlie to slip in. 

"Hi," Dana said quietly, minding the elderly couple upstairs as she pulled the curtains closed while the puppet hovered in the space dividing the kitchen and living room. 

Charlie didn't reply, simply gazing at the newspaper on the dining table that had Richfield's biggest story of the week displayed in huge letters. More than likely, it'd become Richfield's biggest story for the next few years, especially since people were drawing connections between the murders and disappearances from the months prior. 

Dana came up to stand next to the girl, eyes turning to the paper. "I'm sorry..." she said softly, sensing the pain Charlie was feeling. The puppet didn't reply, instead revealing revealing a set of tapes in its clawed hands.

"Are these for me?" Dana questioned, an eyebrow raised. Charlie extended her hands further, depositing them gently into the woman's arms. "I don't understand..." she continued, gaze turning to the objects in her possession, noticing the Fazbear Entertainment logo printed on each tape's label. 

" _Answers,_ " Charlie whispered hoarsely. 

Dana looked back up, even more confused than before. "What kind of answers?" She asked. " _You'll see,_ " the girl replied. " _You may show my father. The other pieces are at the old Freddy's...I could not bring them all._ "

The woman nodded, still not understanding as she gazed down at the objects in her arms. " _But when you know the truth, understand you are not to interfere. I will acquire my vengeance for myself and the others,_ " Charlie continued. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dana questioned, concerned as the puppet made its way back to the window. 

" _All will become clear,_ " Charlie remarked softly, easing back into the cold night. " _Just wait._ "

Before Dana had the chance to ask any further questions, the girl was gone, disappearing into the darkness. The woman huffed, slightly annoyed and confused as she reached to close the window. 

"I hate it when she does that," she grumbled, looking down at the tapes still in her hands. She didn't move, gazing at the objects she now recognized to be security tapes. The woman's eyes narrowed as she moved to the kitchen phone.

...

...

_"Hello?"_

"Henry, she came," Dana said, skipping pleasantries as she sat on the edge of the countertop, her fingers twisting with the end of her tank top. 

" _...Charlie?_ " Henry questioned seriously. "Yeah." The woman replied. "She gave me some security tapes from Freddy's and told me they had answers. Apparently, we aren't supposed to 'interfere' when we figure it out," Dana continued, a hint of annoyance in her tone.

 _"What does that mean?"_ The man asked, obviously confused. 

"I have no idea. Your daughter's really cryptic, in case you didn't know." Dana grumbled. _"She always had a flair for dramatics,"_ Henry replied. _"Have you seen the tapes, yet?"_

"No. She just came and I wanted to wait to watch them with you," the woman answered. 

_"I appreciate that, thank you. I'll come tomorrow evening,"_ the man said, voice dimming somewhat as the sound of pencil upon paper came through from his end. 

"Alright. I think that's it, so I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Dana continued. _"Yes. Thank you so much, Dana. Goodnight,"_ Henry spoke.

"Night."

_CLICK_

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michael put the remaining dishes from the sink into the dishwasher, closing its lid before drying his wet hands with one of the kitchen towels. The morning had been largely quiet aside from the occasional airplane flying outside, and he was grateful for it. Quiet was nice. 

The boy checked the clock, noting that he had about five hours until his father came back from his meetings. He had been to a lot of those lately...

The most recent one he was gone for took nearly all day, and when he came back, he was awfully quiet. Barely spoke a word to Michael. It was weird and was putting the teen on edge. He guessed it was just because of... recent events, but even still, he needed a parent right now and William just wasn't giving it to him like he needed. It felt distant.

Michael couldn't help but wonder if he was doing something wrong.

The boy finished tidying the kitchen, picking up some of the mail from the counter to take to his dad's office. As he walked down the carpeted hallway, the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock played lightly, relaxing him somewhat as he pushed open the heavy wooden door. 

The office wasn't nearly as organized as it usually was, old bills and documents scattered on the desk, waste-bin overflowing with crumpled paper. Michael gingerly stepped into the room, making a point to complete his task quickly. He strode across the red carpet, hurriedly setting the mail on the desk before turning to walk back out.

But something caught his eye.

Michael looked closer at the funtime animatronic blueprints tacked to the wall. It seemed that one of the pins holding the Ballora map to its surface had become unfastened, and in the process, its corner had folded over, revealing another print behind it. 

The boy reached forward, gently prying the first paper away. Behind it lay another blueprint, almost identical to the first, though this one had fewer surface lines, showing the robot's endoskeleton. 

Michael peered closer, eyes narrowing as he tried to identify what he was looking at. His fingers graced the paper, tracing the various lines on the map. He could recognize a lot of the core mechanics and their functions, but when he came to its torso, he found something he'd never seen before.

There was a large chest cavity in the lower stomach, entirely intentional given the adjustments the surrounding wires and springs had to make to accommodate it. Springlocks were littered around the space, and in the back of the hole was a bunched claw.

Michael's eyes followed the springs around it, searching for its trigger and purpose. Lines illustrated key points and mechanics, each pointing to the other parts it worked with. The boy's eyes continued to search until they fell upon a written note in his father's hand.

In cursive, it was difficult to read, but it was now apparent that the claw was made to extend. Extend out of the torso... and the surrounding plates would move to allow its motions. Michael felt a sickening sensation fill him as he realized this. Why would there need to be such a feature?

His mind suddenly reeled back to that awful day.

Elizabeth had been covered, _drenched_ in her own blood. But what had Baby been doing? Her torso plates were open... no claw of any sort had been seen, but the cavity inside was certainly large enough to cage a small child... to cage his sister.

Michael stumbled backwards, hand flying to his mouth as he felt the color drain from his face. He felt sick-Elizabeth's death hadn't been due to some insane malfunction, this was _intentional_ -in some way or another.

The boy fell into the filing cabinet behind him, his impact rattling its metal drawers as he clutched onto it, shaking. He was dizzy, knees suddenly weak as his mind reeled. He stared at the blueprints with widened eyes, all thought rejecting this realization. His father wouldn't-he'd never-

This couldn't be true-his father loved Elizabeth with all his heart, he'd been so distraught, so catatonic since her death. But maybe her death really was an accident-maybe these designs were valid but not meant for her.

Michael's breathing shallowed as he stared at the papers on the wall, unable to tear his gaze from it. He didn't understand, everything he knew about his father was beginning to shatter, but there was one thing he knew.

He wasn't safe.

He had to get out of here.


	34. Sacrifices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: It's Been So Long Mashup by The Living Tombstone, CG5, and SayMaxWell!

Henry popped the lid to his briefcase, reaching to place a small stack of files inside, along with a handgun. It was only noon and he wouldn't be leaving for another hour or so, but it didn't hurt to get ready now. 

The man contemplated what he'd be seeing on those tapes tonight... his initial suspicion was the missing footage from the day of the first disappearances and then the murders, but since Charlotte already confirmed their killer, he doubted that's what it would be. And there was no reason for her to show the horrific events otherwise. But what else it could _be,_ he just didn't know.

Henry's eyes flittered over the remaining documents on his desk, and then the time. On top of all this, there was the mystery surrounding Afton's new restaurant, which had closed weeks ago soon after its opening. And Elizabeth's death. It was all so bizarre and the man just couldn't comprehend what was going on.

He closed the lid of the briefcase, placing it next to his hat and coat on his desk, all ready to go for when he left. A wave of tiredness washed over his eyes. Rest was not something his body and mind had been acquainted with these past weeks. Coffee. He needed to go get coffee. 

Henry drew a hand over his face, rubbing it vigorously as he moved from his office towards the kitchen. As he walked down the hallway, a rapid knock came from the front door. 

The man paused, tiredly turning his eyes to the direction of the porch, thinking about whether or not he really wanted to deal with humans right now. Mmm. No, not really. But he found that he'd been doing a lot of things he didn't want to do lately. This was just going to be another one.

He sighed, shuffling down the hallway as another series of knocks rapped on the door ahead of him. "I'm coming, I'm coming..." he murmured, undoing the lock on the knob. As he pulled open the door, the sight of a very nervous-looking boy greeted him. 

"Michael?" He asked, confused. The teen's eyes flickered up to his, and Henry could see the fright in them. The lad was trembling visibly, arms drawn tightly over his chest. His bike could be seen on the lawn, dumped instead of propped with its kickstand, helmet discarded next to it. 

"Is everything alright?" The man questioned cautiously, gaze turning back to the boy. " _I need your help,_ " Michael whispered, voice hoarse. Henry glanced back at the road, then opened the door a little wider, motioning for the boy to come inside.

The teen stepped in, arms still folded over themselves. He was shivering lightly, though it wasn't that cold outside at all. "Michael?" Henry asked, kneeling in front of the boy. He didn't answer, eyes averted, eyebrows furrowed, seemingly deep in thought. 

"Hey, look at me," Henry said gently, putting his hands on the boy's arms. Amber eyes flickered into his, though they were somewhat glazed and unfocused. The man began to slide his hands up and down the teen's arms, squeezing occasionally. He could feel the tenseness gradually leaving Michael's limbs, and the boy's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, seemingly melting under the gentle touch. 

"What's wrong?" Henry asked in a soft undertone. He could hear the teen's shaky exhale, and there was no reply for a moment.

"It's Dad..." he started quietly. "What about him?" Henry questioned, hearing the sudden hardness in his own voice. He mentally scolded himself, trying not to take a harsh attitude with the boy's father in front of him. 

"I... I don't think Elizabeth's death was an accident," Michael whispered.

Henry felt his eyes widen and his hands tightened on the teen's arms momentarily as he gazed at the speaker in front of him. 

"I found these plans in Dad's office. There's something inside these new robots he made, and I think it's supposed to-to _hurt_ people. But that's not right, right? He wouldn't," Michael said, tone suddenly pleading as he looked wide-eyed at the man. Henry's mouth was agape slightly, not sure what to say to this child... _yes,_ yes William would now, but Michael didn't know that and just the possibility of such a thought seemed to be pushing him to the point of a breakdown or putting him into shock. What was he to tell him?

"Michael..." he started, hearing a break in his voice. The boy looked at him, eyes desperately searching for any hint of an answer, almost frantic in their search. Henry found himself not able to continue.

Michael's eyes suddenly fell empty as a shadow of realization crossed his face. "Or maybe... he would, wouldn't he?" He said softly. "You know something, don't you?" The boy questioned, not accusingly, but more asking for confirmation. Henry's mouth tightened slightly, chin falling to his chest. He nodded once.

"That's why... that's why we haven't seen you... Henry, what's going on? What has my Dad been doing?" The boy continued, voice becoming a little louder. 

The man looked up at Michael, his blue eyes meeting amber ones as he shook his head lightly. His mouth fell open somewhat, though he was not able to voice an answer. But his face must have revealed something Michael was looking for as the teen’s eyes glistened.

“ _Henry, where’s Charlie?_ ” The boy whispered in a choked voice.

Henry’s jaw clenched and his hands tightened once again at those quiet, desperate words. His silence seemed to be answer enough for the boy.

“Is he hurting people? My Dad’s hurting people… _Elizabeth_ -oh my gosh, he’s- _no_ -“ Michael stuttered out, trembling as he spoke, eyes growing wide and frantic. His babbling continued and Henry watched as the teen’s chest began to sink and rise rapidly, his breathing beginning to sound more like gasping.

Michael’s shaking intensified as Henry firmly grasped the boy’s arms, leaning to peer up at his face where he was met with frantic, unfocused eyes. “Michael, look at me,” he said, looking intently at him. The child’s eyes flickered his direction for a moment, wide and confused, tears threatening to break before they resumed moving wildly.

Henry moved his hands from the boy’s arms to cup his face, gently tilting his gaze towards him. “Michael, you need to breathe,” he said firmly. Through his hazy confusion, the teen seemed to understand, making an obvious effort to slow his inhales. Each breath was shaky and unstable, not alleviating in its shallowness as the gasps continued.

Henry took one of Michael’s hands in his own and brought it to his chest, directly over his heart. Glazed eyes flittered to his in confusion.

“Breathe with me,” he said, allowing his chest to move with exaggerated breaths. The teen’s eyes seemed to fill with a little more light and understanding at that, nodding once. “In and out,” Henry said softly, watching as Michael’s chest moved more in time with his, his breathing beginning to turn from its ragged shakiness to something more stable.

“That’s it… good, Mike,” he continued, voice softening. He felt the boy’s fingers curl slightly on his dress shirt, his limbs relaxing as his breathing calmed.

“ _I’m sorry,”_ the teen whispered hoarsely, exhaling. “For what?” Henry inquired in a low undertone, the hand on Michael’s face squeezing gently.

“This. I shouldn’t be all-like this, I’m acting like a little kid-“ he began, mumbling guiltily, cut off as Henry’s other hand encased his cheek.

“Do not apologize. Everyone has breakdowns, Michael, and it does not make you childish if you do. And, by all regards, you are still a child-“ he started, stopping at the incredulous look on the boy’s face. “ _Oh,_ yes you are. Fourteen is still well near your younger years. You aren’t an adult, and I don’t expect you to be. It’s alright to be emotional over this, understand?” The man said, tone softening, looking intently at the teen.

Michael nodded with a light sniffle, trying to blink out the water in his eyes, failing as some beads escaped and started down his cheeks. Henry’s thumb gently moved under the boy’s eye, wiping away a few stray tears.

“Don’t ever apologize,” the man whispered softly, hands falling down to Michael’s shoulders. A light smile graced the teen’s face for a moment before gradually falling back into the impassive frown. “Back to the matter at hand…” Henry murmured. “What will you do now?”

Michael sniffed, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand. “I dunno… I need to get out of the house, though. I don’t feel safe there anymore. And Dad can’t know, at least not until I’m gone.”

“You’ve been planning on running away?”

A shy nod in response.

Henry sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?” Michael suddenly asked, almost panicked as he gazed intently at the man in front of him. “Not on your life,” Henry replied with a light upturn of his lips. “And I don’t feel safe with you being there either. Past events have proven so… but what will your mother think?”

The boy’s jaw clenched at that, eyes casting downwards. “She’s gone too, Henry. It’s just me and Dad, now.”

The man felt his heart break for this teen in front of him and all the sorrow that had befallen him in the course of one, miserably horrific year. It wasn’t fair… no child should ever have to lose so much in so little time. He could see how the very walls of stability and security had broken around this boy, leaving him afraid and emotionally starved for any semblance of affection or love. And the one man that should have given it had not.

And so, Henry made up his mind.

“Mike, I’m going to help you get out,” he said firmly, heart full of determination.

The boy’s head whipped up in shock, eyes widened and mouth agape. “You-you what?” He asked softly, seeming to disbelieve the man’s words.

“You won’t be doing this alone. I assume you’ve already packed your things?” Henry questioned, pulling a pad and paper from his shirt pocket. Michael nodded, eyes a mixture of hope and apprehension. “Two suitcases at home, everything I’ve got is in them.”

“Good,” Henry murmured, scribbling an address and note on one of the sheets, tearing it from its seal. “I have a friend in Provo, he lives two blocks from the nearest bus station. I want you to take this,” he began, taking a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet, giving it and the paper to Michael in one neatly folded pile.

“And I want you to leave as soon as you can. The money should cover the cost to get there. His address is on the note along with a letter from me, he’ll know to let you stay,” Henry continued, putting the pad and pen back into his pocket.

“B-But I don’t even know this guy,” Michael said worriedly, shock still written in his expression as he looked incredulously from the contents in his grasp up to the man in front of him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be joining you both as soon as possible. Until I can get us an apartment, you’ll be needing a place to spend the next few nights, and I won’t let it be anywhere that isn’t safe or sheltered,” Henry said, squeezing the boy’s shoulders.

“Y-You’re coming with me?” The teen questioned, thoroughly bewildered. “What about Nora?”

“Eleanor has decided to live with her parents in Maine for a little while,” the man replied in a low undertone. “And as I haven’t much left here, I’m going to do what is in your best interest, even if it means leaving it all behind.”

Michael’s eyes watered as he looked intently at the man in front of him. Henry’s mouth pulled into a gentle smile, about to make a lighthearted remark before he was cut off as the boy threw his arms around his neck in a hug.

“ _Thank you,”_ he heard whispered as Michael buried his face in the nape of Henry’s neck. The man, still somewhat shocked, gently curled his arms around the boy’s shoulders, squeezing him as he rubbed his back in a rhythmic motion with a kind pat in every circulation.

“I failed my daughter. I will not fail you,” Henry whispered in soft reply, feeling the boy’s arms tighten around his neck. It was another moment before Michael pulled away, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, mouth drawn into a light smile.

“I better get going before Dad gets home,” he murmured, clutching the papers in his hand. “As soon as you can. And give me a call at every stop you take, so I know you’re safe. I’ll let my friend know you’re coming,” Henry replied, giving the boy’s shoulder a light squeeze.

“I will. Thank you so much, Henry. It means everything,” Michael said, voice descending into a whisper. The man smiled kindly in response, opening the front door for the teen as he strode for the porch. “Be safe. Don’t talk to strangers,” Henry said in a playfully chiding tone as the boy walked down the stone stairs to his bike.

“Promise,” Michael smiled, clicking his helmet into place, waving as he took off down the road. Henry returned the gesture, staying in his place in the doorway until the boy was out of sight before stepping inside.

He was in for a lot of work with that rascally teenager. But it didn’t matter. Maybe Michael could be his redemption, now. After all, he didn’t lie.

He would not fail Michael.


	35. screwed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Die in a Fire by The Living Tombstone!

William pulled into the driveway, clicking off the ignition. The sun was beginning to set, casting orange rays brightly his way. He stepped out of his car, locking it as he headed to the front door. When he walked in, however, something felt... off.

What was it? It was like something was missing, or misplaced. The air was cool, light, but at the same time, seemed to carry the weight of loss. Unnaturally quiet, too. There was no house sound apart from the dim hum of the refrigerator, but there was no TV on, there was no music playing from the upstairs bedrooms, nothing.

Something was wrong.

"Michael?" The man called, walking over the carpet. No response came as his eyes swept the living room and kitchen. Nothing there. William stepped upstairs, treading the carpeted hallway to the boy's bedroom. He couldn't stop the sharp intake of breath that flooded through his lungs as he was met with the sight of a barren room.

The man stepped inside, absolute confusion and panic setting in as he viewed his surroundings. Everything was gone... there were no posters hung on the walls, no radio on the dresser, shelves that once held comics and drawings empty. Even the bed was missing its quilt and pillow, only sheets remaining. 

_ What on Earth? _

William strode to the closet and was met with more emptiness. Not a single article of clothing could be found, and he noticed that the suitcase usually at the bottom of the closet was also missing.

The man's heart was beating faster and faster, hands trembling as he pulled closed its doors. Where was Michael? What was happening? Where was his son?

William's feet were taking him to the other empty bedrooms, mind not processing his movement as confusion and fear clouded his thoughts. These, the ones of his other children were largely untouched, but there were noticeable differences. For example, the laminated picture book Elizabeth made at school last year was no longer visible on her desk, and the golden Fredbear plush Chris used to play with was also gone from its place on his bed.

Things began clicking into place as the man hastened to his own bedroom. Nothing seemed to be awry in his own belongings, but as he moved to Clara's wardrobe, he realized her butterfly necklace was gone. Again, his feet moved him places he wasn't thinking of as he hurried downstairs.

As the man ran to his office, he noticed some family photos that once hung on the walls were absent from their perch, leaving dustless spots in their disappearance. William threw open the office door.

Immediately, it was apparent that something had happened here in his absence. The file cabinet was knocked over, documents and papers scattered on the floor in a hasty mess. William stepped inside almost cautiously, mouth agape as he viewed the scene. His eyes swept the floor, moving to his desk where a pile of the day's mail lay atop other files. Moving further upwards, they caught sight of the blueprints tacked to the wall. His heart stopped as the color drained from his face.

The top blueprints that usually hung in view were in place, apart from those of Ballora's. Hers had fallen, folded over to reveal the endoskeleton plans. William realized now what must have happened. His eyes flickered down to the mail on his desk and back up to the corkboard. Michael was no idiot-no child of his ever was. With promise of being a roboticist himself, he would have been able to figure the nature of William's animatronics if he looked hard enough.

And he obviously did.

Dark emotions were swirling inside the man as he clenched his fists. Intense anger, more towards himself than his son was most evident. He was sloppy with his secret-one of them. Heaven forbid that child discover any further ones.

But to the matter at hand-where was Michael? It was more than obvious that he had run away, but where? And to whom?

William drew a hand over his face, a growl rising in his throat. He certainly couldn't call the police with the given circumstances. What to do, what to _do_...

He honestly had no idea where Michael would have gone. The man sighed, pulling his hand down to his chin, tapping it in thought. As he browsed places in his head, his eyes caught sight of a paper, folded next to the mail on his desk.

William reached for it, opening it to find a written note in his son's handwriting. He felt his heart stop somewhat as his eyes scanned the first words.

_ Dad, _

_ I know what you're probably thinking, since you probably have realized by now that I'm gone. I'm leaving home, and I don't know if I'm coming back. I don't know if I can come back. _

_ Dad, I don't know what happened with Elizabeth, and I don't know why you built those machines the way you did, but I'm guessing it has something to do with Chris and his loss. I've figured out by now that you've hurt people, and I can't understand why, but if there's something I do know, it's that I still care about you. _

_ For as long as I can remember, you've been a great father to me and to Elizabeth and to Chris. More so to them I think since you weren't around for me as much...you were always working, and I don't resent you for that, but there's so much you missed from my childhood. There's so much I don't think you know about me. I don't hate you for it, but it hurts knowing that they always got more attention from you than I ever did. _

_ That's why I wound up with bad friends, I think. They all were in worse situations than I was with their parents, but I just kind of fell in with them. The way they took out their pain was on others, and they eventually got me to do the same with Chris. I regret so much from it, and I feel the pain of every mean thing I said to him, every time I scared him, every time my actions caused him hurt. I feel that every day. _

_ His death was my fault and I accept that. It makes me wonder, sometimes, if I'm ever going to be able to become a worthwhile human again because of what I did. I hate myself for what I did to him, and to you and Mama, and to Elizabeth. Most of all, I feel awful for what his death did to you. You're a different person now, you're distant, and we're not really close anymore. I don't know if I know you, and I understand that a lot of that is my fault, and I'm so sorry, Dad. _

_ Despite that, we've lost everything. We lost Elizabeth and we lost Mama. I hate to say it, but I don't feel safe at home anymore. I don't really feel safe around you, not because I don't love you because I do, but because you've changed. I hope you understand, and I won't blame you if you don't, but I'm not going to be home for a long time, if at all. _

_ I'm moving north with a close friend. I'm safe with him, and I know I'll continue to be where I'm going. _

_ I don't know how well I'll be able to stay in contact with you, but I'll try to send you updates on how I'm doing. I don't want you to worry. I know that's a lot to ask, but please understand this: I'm safe, and I still love you. I'm sorry what this has all come to, Dad. I hope we can fix things in the future. _

_ Love, Mike _

William's hands clutched the paper almost to the point of ruining it. Tears fell onto its surface, blurring some of the penciled words. He could feel the significance of every line, the deep emotion written in every sentence. He could feel its sincerity and truthfulness, recognizing Michael's way of speaking, recognizing the very depths of his heart poured into this simple piece paper. 

So many emotions were stirring within him. Pride, regret, pain, sadness, betrayal... and love for his eldest. He knew the boy was right. Oh, how right he was.

William let out a shaky breath, gently putting the note back onto the desk with upmost gentleness. Michael was gone. He wasn't coming back. And he didn't know where to even start looking for him. _North_. How vague. And in any case... if his boy didn't want to see him, he... was going to respect that wish. For now, at least. The child was probably safer away from him anyway.

In the meantime, what was he to do?

The man sighed, tapping his fingers pensively on the desk. Until he could figure things out... he needed to go back to Freddy's. There were some things that needed _addressing_. Loose ends, after all.

Well, there was not time to waste.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dana jumped up from her seat at the table, hurrying to the knocking basement-exit door, opening it to find a tired-eyed Henry. "Come in," she ushered, stepping aside to let the man past her.

He stepped into the threshold of the kitchen, removing his hat as Dana closed the door behind him, motioning to the living room. Henry walked close behind her, taking a seat in an armchair as she moved to the TV, pressing play, and dialing up the volume. "Sorry," she muttered, backing up to sit on the couch. "The screen's a little scratched up."

"That's alright."

Dana exhaled as the VCR began its recording. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as images began playing on screen. The video displayed was a sped-up tape in the back room of the new- _recently closed_ -Freddy's Fazbear's Pizza. The two watched in silence as the camera moved back and forth, occasionally lighting up the room (evidence of a nightguard using the flashlight), showing the discarded animatronics from the old location.

"Why is she showing us this?" The woman asked in a soft undertone, not taking her eyes from the TV. Henry gave no answer.

The rest of the tape was like that. Just the back room. Nothing else. Dana popped in the next cassette, confused to see yet another recording of only the service closet. The speeding time ticked quickly from midnight, to one, to two-o-clock, and it was then that they noticed minor movements in the robots. One, Foxy, even left the room.

Then, the third and the last of the cassettes was placed into the VCR. This time, all moved. Dana watched closely, trying to understand what Charlie wanted her to see. One by one, each stood and left the room, their movements extremely mechanical as they made their way out to presumably roam the dark hallways. The woman noted that every robot waited until the next to exit and that their eyes would flash and blink in white light before they stood from their places on the tiled floor. She thought the light odd, having never seen it before, but figured it had something to do with their anti-lock mechanics.

As the tape came to a close with no animatronics back in the closet, Henry exhaled audibly in the armchair next to her. “Was that it?” He asked, elbows on his knees as he stayed leaned in to the TV. Dana nodded. 

The man sighed lightly, bringing his interlocked fingers to his chin in thought. Both sat in silence for a moment before the woman interjected with another comment.

“She said that ‘the other pieces were at the old Freddy’s’ or something too, though,” she added quietly. Henry looked her way, gears turning in his head. “Well, that’s where we’ll have to go, then,” he nodded. 

“Right now?”

“If you’re up to it. We can take my car.”

Dana nodded, standing as she turned off the television. Henry waited patiently by the door, placing his hat on his head as the woman hurried out behind him, making careful surety to lock the basement entry.

Dana followed the man to his car parked on the other side of the street, rounding to the passenger seat. She climbed inside, minding the briefcase on the car floor while Henry entered on the other side, starting the vehicle.

They turned out of the neighborhood onto the main roads, the sun now almost completely gone over the horizon. Dana looked out the windshield, noting how few cars there were. 

“Do you think we’re supposed to watch more tapes or something?” She asked, turning to Henry.

“Presumably. I first want to check the security office.”

The woman nodded, leaning back in her seat as they approached the old Freddy’s location. As Henry pulled into a parking stall, she took notice of how fallen apart the building had become. The windows were boarded, but the front door (made of fragile glass) was shattered.

The two stepped out of the vehicle and approached the entrance with apprehension, minding the glass shards littered on the concrete. “Careful,” Dana cautioned as Henry slipped his hand into one of the busted gaps of the door to unlock and open it from the other side. With a light click, the door cracked open, allowing them to open it completely and let themselves in.

“This is _so_ creepy,” the woman murmured, hugging her arms around her stomach as they walked down the silent, cold hallway to the security office. “I’d consider that a major understatement,” Henry commented, nudging away filthy plushies on the floor as they continued down the corridor.

When they went into the office, they were greeted with one of the TV’s on the desk turned on, screen lined with static. Henry and Dana exchanged apprehensive glances as they stepped inside, pulling chairs up close to the television. The man extended a finger and pressed “play,” causing the screen to flicker momentarily as the sound of a cassette winding resounded.

There was only blackness on the TV for a moment until a blurry image of the restaurant’s old animatronics was displayed. The old attractions, a bright green frog and pink pig were performing. It played for nearly a minute, suddenly cutting out. Then, an empty stage. Flicker. Three robots, a blue rabbit, bear, and a bright chicken. Pirate Cove, Foxy running through his routine.

Dana looked at Henry, who returned the gesture. They both were immensely confused but were beginning to fill with unwarranted dread as the tape continued.

The music they were performing to suddenly cut out, replaced with only the sound of light static as evening security footage played. A date displayed in the bottom corner matched the one of the disappearances. 

Dana and Henry were leaning forward in their seats, both completely absorbed in the footage. 

They watched as a puppet-Charlie-appeared in front of the stage. The camera quality was noticeably brighter, and had it been to its normal setting, she would not have been visible in the darkness.

Charlie’s hands brightened as she raised them in front of her. Each animatronic, including the one in Pirate’s Cove began to shudder violently, their eyes lighting up with the same brilliance Charlie held. Within seconds, she vanished, but each robot suddenly froze before each slowly tilted its head to the camera.

The tape cut one more time to the back room of the new Freddy Fazbear’s location. This time, both viewers were aware of the animatronics lying dormant, each with a white flare in one or both eyes. Then, the TV cut out completely.

Dana didn’t realize her mouth was hanging agape until the tape finished. She looked over at Henry who was gripping the arm of his chair tightly, face paled and pulled into a tight expression.

“Henry, what _was_ that? Are you alright?”

“They never found the bodies.”

The woman cocked her head in confusion. “What?” She questioned, stomach beginning to swirl with anxiety.

“Four children. Four animatronics. No bodies were recovered,” the man whispered, jaw extremely tense, voice almost choked.

Dana’s being suddenly filled with realization and a hand flew to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. She felt so horrendously sick, absolutely disgusted at being in the building they now stood in.

“Oh, _Henry_ -t-the _smells_ -we left because- “

“The odors.” The man finished, looking rather sick himself as his hands trembled on the arms of his seat.

The woman took deep breaths, trying to clear her head and hopefully keep the urge to vomit at bay where it was struggling to stay. The two sat in silence, each trying to keep their reactions and emotions in control while the shock of this horrible realization played over and over again in their minds.

A thought suddenly occurred to Dana.

“Henry, if Charlie is haunting that robot you made her, then isn’t it likely that those children…are also haunting the old animatronics?” She questioned in a light whisper. The man froze, eyes widening, but he wouldn’t look at her. “I mean, that light we saw-here and on the other tapes-that’s totally not programmed, right? That’s paranormal…and if Charlie is out for revenge, then wouldn’t it make sense if she’s trying to help the others get that too?”

Henry leaned forward, holding his head in his hands with his elbows perched on his knees as he let out a long, shuddering sigh.

“Yes, that is very much my daughter. She would…” he murmured with a twist of a choke in his voice.

The man sat up, a newfound determination filling his eyes. “Get in the car,” he said firmly, standing. The woman stood as well, confused. “We’re going to the other location. Hurry and get the car going, I’m going to take the footage tape. And the briefcase on the passenger seat-it has a handgun. Make sure we bring it in with us,” he continued, seeming to sense her bafflement as he handed her the keys. She nodded, taking them, turning on her heel as she ran out of the building.

Dana ran out to the car, leaning inside to put the keys in the ignition, twisting them as the car shuddered to a start. She rounded back to the passenger seat and climbed in, clicking her seatbelt in as she reached for the case at her feet. She set it on her lap, about to open it before a knock came at her window.

The woman let out a sound of surprise, jumping as she whipped her head over. A tall figure was leaned over, head facing her direction, hand still poised over the glass. He waved lightly, gesturing for her to roll the window down. Dana hesitated for a moment, then remembering the gun in her possession and reached to comply with the stranger’s request.

As the glass went out of view, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was just Dave.

“Oh, hello Dave,” she said with an airless chuckle, still slightly surprised from the sudden visit. The man waved again; mouth turned into a small smile. “Hello, Dana. Didn’t expect to see you here,” he replied in a low voice.

“Yeah, well um…” she started, not sure what to tell him. “My friend Henry and I needed to pick up some security tapes since not all of them were moved to the new location,” she answered with a forced smile, completely hating how BS that sounded. If this man had any level of intelligence, he’d be able to see how that wasn’t necessary as the new restaurant was closed anyway.

But, yet again, relief washed over her as the man seemed to accept her excuse. Although, a slight feeling of apprehension twisted in her when she had mentioned Henry. At the note of his name, Dave’s eyebrows had lifted slightly, eyes almost flashing with a strange light before darkening. He nodded, eyes flickering to the building until Dana cleared her throat.

“What about you?” She questioned awkwardly. The man looked back at her with an eyebrow raised. “Hmm?” He asked. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh…” he began, glancing back at his car which Dana noticed was parked a few stalls from theirs. “With the closure of the new location, I realized I had left some of my belongings at this office. Figured I’d come retrieve them before some punks raided the place,” he answered, hand on the roof of the car. “I’ll go get them now,” he trailed off, pushing away from the vehicle.

Dana nodded, not really paying attention as the man went inside. She waited until he was out of sight before popping open the briefcase. Sure enough, a sleek gun lay atop a series of papers and documents inside. She swallowed, slightly intimidated as she made to close the case, stopping at sight of some of the sheets of paper beneath it.

Carefully sliding the folder out from the under the pistol, she opened it to see some of Henry’s notes on the missing children’s case. Pictures of every child and testimonies of what they had been doing before their disappearances were written neatly next to them. 

Dana turned the page, met with more documentations of what employees recounted, once finding her own name and testimony. She turned another page and found detailed notes of everything she had found on the case. Her mouth turned upwards into a half-smile, appreciating how much Henry seemed to value her efforts and findings.

When she got to the last document, she was met with a series of notes on…Afton. Her eyes narrowed as she read the paper, reading about his betrayal and some fresher writing about his restaurant. At the bottom was a picture, presumably of the man himself.

As her eyes met the photo, her heart stopped, mind in absolute shock.

Why was _Dave’s_ picture listed as William Afton’s?

She jumped as the sound of the driver door opening alerted her from her discovery. Not looking over, she opened her mouth, finger touching the paper. “Henry, this picture, the one on Afton, it’s-“ she started shakily, cutting herself off as she finally looked the man’s direction.

But the man in the driver’s seat wasn’t Henry, but Afton himself. Dave. _William._

Dana’s eyes widened, heart-beat quickening in absolute fear and adrenaline. She reached for the door, about to click out of her seatbelt and go running out of the car, but as she did, Afton retrieved the pistol which she had set near the glovebox, pointing it her direction.

“Ah, ah, ah…” he said softly in a low undertone, eyes glinting maliciously. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“W-Where’s Henry?” Dana demanded, trying to keep the fear from her voice, but failing terribly.

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that friend of yours. He’s just out cold… _besides,_ I think it’s time for the two of us to go back to Freddy’s, _hmm_?” The man answered, pulling the stick-shift into reverse.

Dana felt her face drain of color, limbs and hands trembling as the car turned without her willingness out of the parking lot and onto the main road, pointed in the direction of the new location.

She craned her neck back to the building they were leaving behind, absolute dread and terror consuming her. Henry was still there, she knew what this man next to her was capable of, and he was armed.

She was most definitely, absolutely, screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny thing, I hadn't actually had Michael's note written in my initial draft but as I began adding details, it just sorta showed up and was like w r i t e m e
> 
> I swear, this book has a mind of it's own lol. ANYWAY, I had hoped to finish this first FNAF book (yes, there will be a sequel) before February's end, but it's more than obvious that that won't be happening. Eh. Oh, well. Thanks for reading guys


	36. welcome back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FNAF Song of the Day: Turn Back by TryHardNinja!

"Out." Afton ordered as they came to a stop outside Freddy's. Dana didn't have to look over to see the gun's barrel pointed her way. She tried to not shake so fiercely as she cautiously stepped out of the car, but her body just didn't have the capacity to care about such foolish thoughts. It knew she was in trouble, so the adrenaline was coursing madly through her, all primal instinct telling her to run.

But she didn't.

Instead, she followed the silent but obvious order to enter the building. As she walked inside, she could sense the man getting close behind her, this man who she had worked with and learned to trust and even consider a friend, who was now her captor and maybe even her murderer. 

She shuddered as his hand touched her shoulder, gripping it in a firm warning as if the gun behind her wasn't warning enough. Afton's hot breath tickled her skin as he leaned down to her level.

"You know, I had suspected that Henry was behind all those calls, but I never would have predicted _you_ in all this. Well done Dana, well done indeed..." he murmured lowly into her ear, the nozzle of the pistol brushing her shoulder. The woman couldn't stop the chill that ran through her, wishing and praying for someone to be here, someone to rescue her.

"How unfortunate that you've been caught right at your little discovery, though, isn't it?" Afton continued, leading her further down the darkened corridor to the main room. "I wonder how long you've been working with him... and did you ever suspect me?"

Dana scoffed, a scowl drawing over her face. "No. I never thought awkward _Dave_ of all people would be a child killer." At that, Afton leaned back and laughed, head cocked to the ceiling. The laugh was full and brimming with total elation and giddiness, although absolute in its eerie sound.

"Then I played my part well! And my parents thought I couldn't be an actor," the man remarked happily, light chuckles in his tone. Dana shuddered, completely revolted at his attitude towards his crimes. "Payed off though, didn't it?" He continued. Dana could sense him peering at her and she could almost see the smug smirk plastered on his face.

She glared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. Afton seemed to take this as amusing as he chuckled again, eyes going closed for a moment as he shook his head. He sighed, a light smile in his features as they went forward past party tables and frozen birthday attractions.

"I mean, think about it. Complete, near private seats to keep an eye on those beloved robots for my observations, access to every room in this building, all coming together at the price of a simple act. _And_ ," he continued smugly, slowing as they came to the stage. "I get paid, too."

Dana's face twisted into an expression of disgust and anger, her shaking now not only from adrenaline. The aggressive part of her wanted to turn and snatch that weapon and use it against him. 

Afton stopped, grip on the woman's shoulder tightening until she halted as well, eyes glancing from him to the toy animatronics on-stage.

"You know, there's something about originals you just don't get with these new ones," the man murmured, looking up at the robots almost in fascination. "Even _I_ feel this way with my own creations. But in all fairness, they were designed to _kill,_ " he spoke softly, though the woman could hear the disdain in his tone at the last words.

"I wasn't lying when I said I was watching for paranormal activity," he said in a low undertone. 

"I figured not," Dana snarled. "But I never thought you were looking for something from victims you _murdered._ "

"Oh, _this_ again," Afton sighed in mild irritation as if she had brought back a subject on something as monotonous as the weather. "We've already gone over that."

"You're a vile, treacherous monster," Dana spat, turning to glare at him. The effect wasn't as intimidating as she hoped it would be. Nearly a foot height difference definitely wasn't a contributor. Definitely not.

"Believe me, darling, I am well aware," he drawled, rolling his eyes in a mix of exasperation and amusement. "What do you plan to do about that though, I wonder?" He questioned, peering at the woman as he leaned close.

Dana stopped the urge to shudder and pull away, standing her ground as her face pulled into a scowl. "To shoot you with that gun before I get out of here to call the police," she snarled, firming her stance. Her courage seemed to evaporate as a darkened expression came over the man, leaning even further as his mouth pulled into a light frown.

The woman took a feeble step back, eyes widened as Afton narrowed his glare at her. "That sounds like a threat, my dear. A rather good one, in fact. Just how to you plan to carry that out when _I'm_ the one in control here?"

Dana gulped, feet clumsily moving backward as she tried to put distance between them. She couldn't move fast enough to avoid the hand moving forward to wrap around her throat. Like coils, the man's fingers snaked around her neck as he forced her head to the surface of the prize counter.

"Remember this?" Afton whispered, eyes filled with a dark fire as he looked intently at the woman. Dana pried at the strong fingers, those _cold_ , iron fingers, trying to pull them away from her throat. She could still breathe, but it was raspier, a light pressure beginning to build in her skull as she inhaled and exhaled through her mouth.

"But this time, things are a little different, aren't they? I've been able to enjoy a second party with some _special_ children," he said, leaning over her, his raven hair falling over his forehead. "And in case you're wondering, I _will_ be killing you tonight. Rather unfortunate, really; you're one of the few tolerable people I've had the privilege of knowing. I won't be using this though, I think," he continued, eyes flicking to the gun in his other hand as he gave it a wave.

"Firearms are always so impersonal. And since we already know each other, I think I'd like to give you a more personal way out. What do you think?"

Dana stopped struggling for a moment, trying to emit as much seething fury as possible as she glared at the man before letting a series of expletives fall from her tongue in Afton's honor with dripping venom.

The man stopped, eyes widening in shock and surprise before his demeanor once again fell into one of amusement as he chuckled, shaking his head with a wide smile. Dana felt her face redden in embarrassment as the grip on her neck lessened slightly.

"Goodness, never imagined you to have such a sharp tongue Ms. Heard," he chuckled. "You should be lucky you never lived under my household. My mother would have taken you to the washroom so fast you'd have never had the time to realize it before she'd be scrubbing your mouth with her strongest bath soap."

The woman flushed deeper as she again struggled against the hand on her throat. "Shut up! _Let go of me!_ " She snarled, trying to kick at Afton's torso. The man let out a pained grunt as her foot connected with his leg. A flitter of triumph filled her for a moment, but the terrifying look Afton sent her extinguished it completely. 

Dana's eyes widened as the man scowled at her, pressing harder against her neck. At that, she choked, now finding it much more difficult to breathe.

"That wasn't nice," Afton hissed, his dark glare causing the woman to completely freeze in fear. His fingers tightened around her neck to the point of making her gasp and audibly choke, her face reddening as he squeezed. " _S-S...to..p-_ " Dana tried to muster, rasping profusely as pressure built in her head to the point of blinding her.

"I don't think I will," the man taunted, moving a strand of hair from her face with the nozzle of the gun. "And anyway... I'm getting tired of playing with you. _Goodbye,_ Dana-"

"I don't think so."

Afton's head whipped to the entrance hallway. Dana tried to peer his direction, fruitless as she tried to see over his hand. The man's grip lessened enough for her to breathe and she immediately drew in a deep inhale, allowing air to flood her lungs as Afton stared away from her.

"Henry... I didn't expect you to follow us. How did you get here so fast?" The man questioned with a drawl. Dana managed to lift her head up enough to see Henry standing in the entrance hallway, looking very disheveled with a dark bruise forming near his jaw.

"If you're going to steal my car Afton, you can't expect me to not take yours. Only an idiot would leave the keys in one."

The man holding Dana chuckled jovially. "And only an idiot would choose to endanger a friend in pursuit of destroying his foe. That's what I am to you, right? Don't think I haven't noticed you've been cutting off connections from me. _Afton_... so I'm not Will anymore... what a shame. You could have helped me, you know. Charlotte wouldn't have had to-"

"Don't you _dare_ call her by that name! You have _no_ right!" Henry yelled angrily, the pained betrayal and fury evident in his tone. 

"So, I've lost that too?" Afton questioned with a light hiss. " _You never had it,_ " the man in the hall answered darkly. "Now, let that woman go or you'll regret it."

Afton's eyes narrowed as he made no move to obey Henry's order. Suddenly, in one swift motion, he had pulled Dana away from the table, the hand on her throat moving as his arm wrapped around her upper chest, hand gripping her shoulder as her back was pressed against his torso. Her hands instinctively grabbed at the strong arm, trying to pry it from its hold, but it was unrelenting in its power.

"Or what, Henry? What will you do? What _can_ you do?" Afton hissed, pointing the gun in the man's direction. "What have you _ever_ been able to do against me? _Nothing._ "

Henry visibly tensed, jaw tightening as a shadow of guilt passed over him. Dana felt Afton's arm press harder into her chest, forcing her even closer towards him. 

"No matter how hard you try, you can't stop me. Your efforts have been in vain as you've watched lives fall before me, watched your daughter die at my hands while you've accomplished _nothing_ to stop it. So, don't throw empty threats at me, _old friend_. We both know how useless they are."

Henry's face pulled into a scowl, stance strengthening as a light flashed through his blue eyes. "Maybe so," he breathed. "But I'm not going to let you hurt these innocents anymore. This is between you and me. Let Dana go, she has nothing to do with this."

Dana could feel Afton's hot breath on her skin as he exhaled. "We could have accomplished so much together," he murmured. "You and me, I thought we'd conquer the world. Our partnership was so strong, we together had so much potential. Don't you understand?"

The man shook his head, a low growl resounding from his throat. "Everything since Chris' death has been to ensure he can have a future again. And I'm so close to an answer, and it won't just be what will bring my son's return. I have the tool to conquer death-I have the very thing that will secure immortality. I will never have to be separated from my family ever again-and you can have that too. Don't you see, Henry?"

The man in the hall said nothing, staring at Afton in absolute incredulity and shock. Dana found herself frozen, no longer struggling against the hold as she too waited for either one to speak.

"Henry, I can bring her back. I can bring Charlie back-I just need a little more time, a little more experimentation, and then I'll have my answer. I know you want her with you again."

The man in the corridor said nothing.

"You can join me... we can have everything with this power. Nor you or I will ever need fear of losing another child ever again. We can have _everything_."

Henry's eyes suddenly looked old and tired as a pained expression crossed his face. " _I already did._ " He whispered.

There was a sharp inhale from Afton as his arm tensed around Dana's shoulders. He let out a shaky sigh, before a click echoed in the space as he cocked the gun. Dana's eyes widened as she felt the nozzle press against her temple.

"You never learn..." the man muttered in resignation. "You'll get to watch another loved one die."

" _No!_ " Henry shouted, tone almost begging as he reached a hand out, his expression twisted into intense fear. " _Please,_ Will, don't!"

In a moment of absolute terror and panic, Dana's mind scrambled for any sort of escape. There was nothing Henry could do-it was obvious that Afton wasn't changing his mind on this and she was completely at his mercy, and she hadn't a-

_Weapon._

"Say goodbye, Dana," Afton murmured into her ear as he pressed the gun further against her head. The woman grit her teeth, and in one swift motion, had flung her arm under her coat to her belt where she had been keeping her switchblade. She flicked it open as she wrenched her hand up to drag it against Afton's arm.

The man let out a yell of pain, letting go of her immediately as blood poured from the gash on his forearm and hand. Dana pulled away, stumbling to the ground before hurriedly forcing herself back to her feet as she ran to Henry. 

Henry reached for her, pulling her to his side protectively, though his face was pulled into one of shock and bewilderment as he kept her close. "Thanks for telling me to keep that on me," she panted, shaking. The man didn't reply, as he took a step away to one of the adjacent halls, pulling her with him. 

"This isn't over yet," he murmured in worry. His claim was proved as Afton turned his glare towards them, a scowl on his face as he raised the pistol. Dana felt Henry's hands on her shoulders grip harder as they shoved her away from him while a gunshot cracked in the space. She felt Henry crumple to the floor beside her.

Terror gripped the woman as a shocked and fearful shriek tore from her throat, head whipping to the man on the floor next to her. " _Blast it,_ " Henry cursed, expression drawn into one of pain. Dana eyes flickered to his side where a growing spot of red was staining through his clothes. 

"Henry!" She cried, dropping next to him as another shot echoed loudly. A tile on the wall next to her shattered as a bullet pierced it. The woman turned her head to see Afton with the gun raised as he aimed it her direction. He pulled the trigger a third time, but instead of that almighty crack, there was only a light click to indicate the chamber was empty.

The man swore, throwing aside the pistol, clutching his arm while blood dripped to the tile. He growled, beginning to stalk towards them before something from a hallway Dana couldn't see made his head turn. Afton stopped his pursuit, seemingly entranced by the sight before abandoning his initial goal as he turned to walk towards a darkened corridor.

Dana watched in bewilderment before remembering the task at hand as she looked back at Henry with worry and fear. "Henry, are you-"

"It just grazed me, I'm alright," the man rasped, hands covering his wound. Dana's eyes narrowed as she shook her head, standing. In a few quick strides, she had reached an unused first-aid closet, opening it, eyes frantically searching its contents. She reached for a few rolls of bandages and medical tape, hurrying back to the man still on the ground, his eyes scrunched closed in pain.

Dana eased Henry up against the carousel, moving aside his coat as she began wrapping the bandages around the man's side tightly. The man groaned in pain, face paling slightly as she worked. 

"Sorry, sorry!" She squeaked. "But we have to do this until we can get you to a hospital." The man nodded, sweat beading on his brow as he breathed heavily.

"What... what about Will, where did he-"

"He left down one of the hallways, I don't know where he's going," Dana answered, hands working as she secured a tape fixture on the last of the wrappings. She helped the man sit up against the carousel, hoping the bandages would hold until they could get help. Suddenly, Henry began trying to stand, his legs seemingly without strength as he leaned heavily against the attraction behind him.

"Woah, what are you doing?" She cried anxiously, trying to stop him from injuring himself further as he moved. "We've got to find him, got to-" Henry started, gasping in pain.

"Henry, you can't, you're hurt!"

"I'm going to find him, I won't let-"

"Father, stop."

Dana watched as Henry froze completely, eyes widening as a pained and shocked expression came over him. She looked up between the bars of the carousel to see Charlie standing near one of the darkened corridors at the prize counter. 

She didn't look at all like how Dana had seen her before-instead of a puppet form, she merely resembled the marionette. Her attire matched the patterns and designs from the robot with its black dominance interrupted by white lines and buttons. Her black hair was down, gently cascading around her shoulders. Her skin was quite pale, almost as much as the puppet's with red painted circles on her cheeks, lips the same color while indigo streaks fell from her eyes to jawbone.

Dana realized this must be more what she looked like when she was alive. 

"Help me up," Henry murmured softly to her. The woman nodded, slipping an arm around the man's shoulders as she eased him to his feet. His stance seemed to have newfound strength as he turned to see his daughter standing-not levitating-just a few yards away.

Tears slid down the man's face as he gazed at the girl.

"Charlotte... " he whispered, a choke in his voice. The child smiled lightly, her eyes watering. "Hello, Papa," she said almost joyfully. "I've missed you."

A shudder wracked Henry's body, a smile pulling at his mouth. "Oh, my girl... oh my beautiful girl," he choked. He looked at Dana, a determined expression written in his features. "I can walk for a moment," he said lowly. The woman nodded, slowly releasing her hold as the man shuffled forward away from her.

Henry stopped a few feet from Charlie, one hand clutching his side as he looked down at her. "Charlotte..." he whispered, barely loud enough for Dana to hear. "I'm so, _so_ sorry... I couldn't protect you that night... I failed you, my daughter."

The girl stepped forward, setting a hand on the man's elbow. "You did not fail me, Papa. You tried, remember? I was the one who disobeyed you. And it was not you that took my life. This was not your failure."

Henry trembled as his daughter looked up at him with such reverence and respect. "I should have been able to stop him," he murmured. "He's hurt so many others."

The girl nodded solemnly. "I know. I was there for almost every single one. There are only a few of us, now. And tonight is the night we're going to exact our revenge."

Henry swallowed. "So, we are right to be here. This is where we fight."

Charlie shook her head. "Not you, Papa. Me. And the others. We will do this alone... this is our battle."

The man in front of her exhaled shakily as he tried to suppress his tears. He extended a hand, gently cradling the girl's cheek in his palm. "You're so strong... I'm so proud of you," he whispered as another tear rolled down his face. "I'm sorry you've had to bear this... if I could relieve you of it, I would."

Charlie smiled, leaning into the touch. "I know you would. But I'll do that myself when my job here is finished."

Her expression softened. "I have to go," she said quietly. Henry nodded sadly, a light sob threatening to break from his throat. "Would you indulge me?" He asked gently, holding his arms out.

The girl walked forward into her father's embrace, her small hands wrapping around the man's back. Henry seemed to tremble as he gripped the child, running his fingers gently through her hair as he held her close.

"I love you, Papa. I hope to see you again after all this," she spoke, squeezing him as real tears rolled down her cheeks. Henry reluctantly let go as she pulled from the embrace. Charlie took a step back before cupping her father's face in her nimble hands as she leaned forward to place a light kiss on his brow.

"Always, my little girl," Henry whispered, voice shaky as he managed a smile. "I love you, Charlotte. Your Papa loves you."

The child smiled, backing away as she began to change to look more like the puppet again. She smiled as she disappeared into the darkness of the corridor behind her. Henry watched her go, not moving as Dana slowly came to stand behind him.

"Are... are we really supposed to let her handle this?" She questioned quietly. The man exhaled. "If this is what she wants, then I'll trust her to do it," he murmured. "She's a smart girl."

Dana nodded. "If there's nothing left for us here, then I need to take you to the hospital," she said, once again wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders for support. "I think that'd be a good idea... I had forgotten it was hurting," Henry nodded, hand still clutching his side.

The woman snorted, helping the man down the entrance hallway and out the glass doors. There was Henry's car parked where they had left it, and Dave- _Afton's_ vehicle was a few stalls from it, door ajar. "Take mine," the man rasped, giving answer to the question in the woman's mind. She nodded, gently helping him into the passenger seat. As she rounded around to the driver's side, she took one last look up at Freddy's, disdain and disgust filling her as she stepped into the car.

"Good riddance."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooo everybody! once again, I find myself at the mercy of this book as I'm adding way more events and interactions than what was in my original outline, but that's alright. just means my schedule's been delayed for this book, haha. just for clarification as I know it might look this way, this isn't the end of the story, there are still a few more chapters coming, so stay tuned!


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